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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790041">Lady &amp; The Tramp III: Family Matters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroicDisney/pseuds/HeroicDisney'>HeroicDisney</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Disney - All Media Types, Lady and the Tramp (1955)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure &amp; Romance, Bisexuality, Disney, Drama &amp; Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Jealousy, Leaving Home, M/M, Multi, Returning Home, Unofficial Sequel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:34:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroicDisney/pseuds/HeroicDisney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The third and final story in the lives of Lady and The Tramp. The end of summer and changing winds bring trouble to their sleepy little town. When a face from her past arrives, Angel chooses not to be hurt again. And though he loves his family, Tramp feels age catching up to him and yearns for the golden days of his youth, which worries Lady. In the junkyard, Buster resents The Tramp for breaking his heart, but that all changes when he meets Lady for the first time. Will they give in to jealousy or realize that family matters most of all?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angel/Scamp (Disney: Lady and the Tramp), Buster/Lady (Disney: Lady and the Tramp), Buster/Tramp (Disney: Lady and the Tramp), Lady/Tramp (Disney), Peg/Tramp (Disney: Lady and the Tramp)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bad Winds Blow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was once a quaint town found somewhere or other in rural New England, which was quite charming before the industrial giants would turn it into a host for steel, cars, or bullets for the war. The first one, that was, which America wouldn’t join for another six years. No one in town was worried about trouble across the pond. Not yet.</p><p>All the shops and homes, schools and diners were abuzz with the energetic laziness of late summer. Kids were out of school, the farmer’s market sold fresh produce, and fireflies lit up the night. A World War was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind.</p><p>But that evening, a ill wind blew hot and cold, carried all the way from a tornado out west. When it swept through the local junkyard, a battle began to brew.</p><p>“I didn’t want us to end this way...” a scruffy gray dog sighed. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Sorry?” His companion was a black-and-brown giant. “Don’t give me that.”</p><p>The town dump was where everyone discarded broken things: rusty bikes, cracked mirrors, and the like — a playground for two young dogs to grow up together. The gray mutt looked a bit like a Schnauzer. He’d been there two years, ever since he was a pup. His friend, who was a Doberman-Rottweiler mix, used to ask if he’d ever had a home, but the gray boy would never say. He was not, however, very fond of human babies.</p><p>They were older now. The junkyard held memories in broken glass. It was a dangerous place, too easy to get cut. “It’s either me or her. Ya gotta choose.” The Dober-Rott circled his old buddy. “Ya can’t be a Junkyard Dog and a house pet. Ya can’t love us both!”</p><p>“But I do love you both. Why can’t you see that?” The Schnauzer mutt stepped towards him, ears dropped and tail down, but his companion snapped his fangs.</p><p>He’d never growled at him like this before. The gray dog whimpered. For the Rotterman, that meant submission, that he sacrificed dominance. But for him, this wasn’t about who was Top Dog. That didn’t matter anymore, not since he’d met her.</p><p>“You used to be a decent dog. The streets beat that out of you.”</p><p>His former friend, his former more-than-friend, rolled his eyes. He snarled like he had rabies. “Ya leave here, ya don’t ever come back! Ya got that?”</p><p>He shook his head. “Do you want to be angry and alone forever?”</p><p>“What do ya care? Ya don’t care about me.”</p><p>“That’s not true. I always have.”</p><p>“Ya changed,” he spat at him. “Ya sold out.”</p><p>“I changed for the better.” The gray dog trudged through the mud, which meant his new owners would surely give him a bath. Funnily enough, he was looking forward to it. He looked back at the dirty Dober-Rott, who was destroying a pillow. “But you never will.”</p><p>“I’ll settle tha score one day! Ya gonna regret this!”</p><p>“I already do.” He disappeared into the drainage pipe, paws splashing, jaw quivering. He heard his old buddy growling and howling, but he never looked back.</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------------------ONE YEAR LATER-----------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>And just like that, it was late summer again.</p><p>School-aged children ran like wild dogs in the dusty lanes and cobblestone roads in front of their homes, playing any game that struck their fancy. Kids laughed to jump a hop-scotch board or to bounce a ball and pick up jacks. Down by the river that flowed under the tall wooden bridge of train tracks, a little girl sat on a picnic blanket reading a book. A little boy ran up from the riverbed and threw a frog at her — “Look what I found in the reeds!” — whether to impress or scare her, who could say? The children were glad to have a few more weeks of break before they returned to the musty reek of textbooks.</p><p>In the shopping and dining district of town, a skinny Italian man in a white apron flipped his sign from “Open” to “Closed.” He sighed into an untouched pot of spaghetti.</p><p>“Going early again, are we?” asked the owner, a large man who was usually all smiles.</p><p>“We cannot prepare food for ghosts,” groaned Joe, the skinny chef. “There is trouble in the air, I smell it stronger than the thyme! Restlessness is taking everyone. Did you know that last week my wife — ” He stopped when the restaurant owner, Tony, pointed behind him at three children that were listening patiently.</p><p>Tony and Joe were quite right, though they didn’t know it. The restlessness, the wanderlust that had blown into town on the breeze meant bad times were brewing. The winds came from the west, the hot and cold of a dissipating tornado.</p><p>But for those who lived on the streets, the bad times were everyday. The town alleyways, junk piles, and trainyard were home to many stray mutts. They loitered behind restaurants, they nosed through tin trash cans, and generally, their lives were a balancing act between finding halfway decent food and a safe place to sleep.</p><p>It was a bit rough, but there were no masters. No one told a wild dog what to do.</p><p>“What’ve we gots here? Bacon with a little dittle of grease? Burger and chips?” A canine's nose was never wrong, and this bulldog smelled meat. He trotted merrily into the alley. “Maybe a nice mince pie?”</p><p>Then the dog stopped. There was more than just meat in this alleyway.</p><p>“Hello… I know ye, yes I do.” The bulldog broke into a slobbery grin and bounded up to the female hiding behind a stack of wooden crates. “Peggy! How are ye, Peg?”</p><p>“Thought that was you, Bull.” She grinned to see a friendly face for once. “How do you stay so plump living off scraps?”</p><p>Bull chuckled, wobbling his portly self from side to side. “That’s just the bulldog way!”</p><p>“Well, I’m glad one of our bellies is full.” Peg waltzed past him, tossing her fluff. When she was younger, a swish of her tail would drive the boys wild. Now she was an old gal dealt a bad hand of cards, but she knew how to play poker with life, hard as it was. “But I want outta the game, honey. I’m past my prime.”</p><p>Bull nodded so he’d seem wiser than he really was. He was disappointed there was only a small bite of food in the alley, but it was good to see Peg. She was one of those pretty girls who’d had a real run in her youth, laughs and cries and wild tales, a whole trash can full of memories. She’d never thrown many looks his way, but that was all right. Bull wasn’t the competitive sort of dog. He didn’t need a blue ribbon from the county fair.</p><p>Peggy smiled, for she could guess his thoughts well enough. “You ever think about running off to a nice farm, couple miles out west?” She looked out of the alley at the trees, just visible past the buildings.</p><p>“Ye mean leave town? I dunno, seems awful risky.”</p><p>“Nah, this town is what’s risky.” Peg sighed, walking a little closer to that tree line on the horizon. The bricks in the road shimmered in the sunlight. “But what if there’s a place with no dogcatchers? Maybe they’ve got a barn with rats or mice. Heck, I’d settle for cow feed, long as it's edible. But some place nice where they won’t bother us.” She looked back at him, misty-eyed. “Ever imagine a place like quiet?”</p><p>He nodded again, sagely as ever. “It would be lovely, but ye wouldn’t go alone, would ye?” Bull turned his big head, wide eyes blinking. “Ye’d be so sad on yer own.”</p><p>“Funny you should ask.” Peggy made her way out of the alley, and she’d recovered some of the sway in her hips that accompanied her good moods. She threw him a forlorn smile. It was nice to see an old friend again — poker life had a way of separating folks, especially ones who don’t want to part. There were dogs she’d missed for too long.</p><p>“I’m gonna ask someone to come with, but we haven’t spoken for a while.”</p><p>On that note she vanished around the corner, taking off in an unknown direction. Bull was sure happy to run into her, for he liked to admire pretty girls, even if admiring was all he did. That was all anyone asked of him, and that was fine. So he watched Peg leave, nodded with the wisdom of ages, then returned to nosing around the alley.</p><p>“A slice of pizza? Perhaps a pretzel with a small smack of mustard?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>If bad winds were blowing, it seemed impossible they’d ever find their way to Snob Hill. That was the colloquial name for the northside residential area, a community of shiny fences, two-story houses, and golden trees lining the sidewalk. Yes, Snob Hill was a lovely part of town, for both the families that lived there and the dogs they owned.</p><p>It was great being a canine in that neighborhood. Everyone stopped to pet you on your morning walks, and every cat and dog on the block was groomed, so fleas were a thing of the past. Best of all, there were plenty of fence posts and fire hydrants.</p><p>These were the thoughts of a shaggy dog who yawned on the steps of a large white-and-lavender house with pretty windows, flowerbeds, even a yard swing. He had floppy ears and a Schnauzer beard, his fur a shade somewhere between brown and gray. If ever there was a mutt, this was it. The only thing odd was a crimson collar around his neck.</p><p>He'd worn it a year now, ever since the family who lived here had welcomed him with open arms. So much had changed for him in one short year: love in the summer, puppies by Christmas, and then their little adventure on the Fourth of July.</p><p>But change wasn't bad, he knew that. Change was good. Maybe the porch steps weren't as exciting as the town junkyard… but he had his people now. He had Jim Dear. "Afternoon, boy," the man greeted him, coming up the walkway. A younger dog would've jumped like a fool, but he knew to stay calm and greet Jim on the porch. "Why don't we all go for a walk this evening, eh, Tramp?"</p><p>That sounded wonderful. Even better was the sound of his name — it belonged to him.</p><p>When he lived on the streets, he'd been called many things. At the backdoor of Tony and Joe's pasta restaurant, he was affectionately "Butch." To the dogcatchers he was "The One That Got Away," a title he periodically renewed. To the O'Brien family, he'd been "Mike." The Schultzes in Germantown called him "Fritzie." There’d even been one fellow who whistled on his way to work, so he’d follow him and bark merrily. That man called him “Happy Dan.” But most around town simply called him "The Tramp," and it stuck.</p><p>The same week that he'd killed the rat for Jim Dear and Darling, the man had gone around and asked, "Does anyone own this dog? Does he have a home?" He learned from the townsfolk that the dog called The Tramp was well and truly a tramp.</p><p>The Mrs. thought it was rude, but Jim found it audacious, so "Tramp" was his name. Sans the "The."</p><p>So that afternoon found Tramp lying lazily around Jim Dear and Darling’s front porch, soaking up sun rays like the felines he used to chase. It was rare that Tramp had more than hour to himself nowadays — even half an hour of pure peace and quiet for a nap would've been appreciated — now that he lived in a house with a rambunctious boy, James Junior, and no less than five younger dogs: three his daughters, one his son, and one the girl his son befriended.</p><p>Yes sir, Tramp was well-used to one of his pups having a breakdown he had to sort out, or Junior wanting to play ball with him, or Lady wanting to spend time together. It was rare indeed that Tramp found himself alone, and he intended to enjoy —</p><p>“Ahoy there, laddie! How’s the day for ye?”</p><p>He wasn’t sure if a Scotsman or a pirate had interrupted his sleep, but a glance up told him it was their two friends Jock the black terrier and Trusty the brown bloodhound. These were dogs who’d lived in Snob Hill longer than he had, who’d been friends with his Lady for far longer, and he’d be jealous if they weren’t so silly. Nice fellas, but silly. Jock had been shoved in a new sweater of tartan pattern with cute puffballs around the collar, which didn’t exactly scream “steal your girl.” Tramp had no cause for jealousy.</p><p>“Hello there, Jock. Afternoon, Mr. Trusty,” he yawned, trying his best to sound happy to see them. And not to laugh at Jock’s newest knitting-wear. “What brings two fine canines such as yourselves around here?”</p><p>“Ach, well, it may sound a wee bit nonsensical…”</p><p>“To a practical feller like me, it certainly does,” Trusty huffed.</p><p>“Yes, yes, thank ye kindly!” Jock jumped up irritably, looking like a bristly hairbrush being shaken. “Aye, so it seems absurd to old Trusty here, but I couldn’t help but notice a new dog park has been built two blocks down, do ye know the one?”</p><p>“I think we’ve been,” Tramp said, but Jock cut him off.</p><p>“Right, ye know it, so ye may have seen that there are many bonnie lassies at this park — Oh, just the bonniest! — a pretty little airedale, and there’s that cute beagle, ooh, and the poodle, ain’t she a big lady? Well, there are so many nice lassies at the park that I got to thinking maybe I could… ye know, maybe I could get one of them to fancy me?”</p><p>“And I told him to just be himself,” Trusty said, “but he don’t wanna be.”</p><p>“I’ve been meself, haven’t I, and look where that’s gotten me! I’ll nae get a girlfriend if I keep acting like me.” Jock looked mournful. “So I thought I’d best act like ye.”</p><p>“What?” Tramp laughed. “Act like me?”</p><p>Jock’s eyes widened, like he’d just smelled something foul before everyone else. He looked around the garden for anything to change the subject, but the rake was perfectly boring and the flowers pretty and bland. He was trapped like a rat. “Err, well, me and Trusty were just saying — really, it were all Trusty — that if anyone in town knows how to make the ladies swoon, it would be The Tramp. Ye’re quite famous for knowing the best spots to bury… ach, that is to say, ye dig a lot. In all the gardens. Or ye used to, aye? Nae saying ye go around ruining flower beds anymore, but in days past ye were well known to pick a petunia or two. To sniff the daffodils. To water the pansies. To sow yer — ”</p><p>“We get it. I had a green thumb.”</p><p>“So ye did, laddie. So ye did.” Jock had been cautiously glancing around the yard, in case Lady or any of her daughters were lingering nearby. “Can ye give me any advice?”</p><p>Tramp wasn’t sure whether to laugh in amusement or groan in irritation. It was an entire human year since he’d been The Tramp, the most infamous stray this side of the Mississippi, and that was a long time in dog years. “All I can say is if you actually want to keep a girl, you don’t want to be like me. Like I used to be.”</p><p>Jock scrunched up his face, very confused, but Trusty smiled. This was what he’d told his bristly terrier friend, but he needed to hear it from several dogs before it stuck.</p><p>“All right, here’s my wisdom,” Tramp yawned, scratching behind his ear with his back leg the way he did. “Nice is better than cool. Listen when she talks. Make her laugh.”</p><p>“That dinnae sound very foolproof, laddie.”</p><p>“Oh, I forgot the most important part — never interrupt an afternoon nap.”</p><p>Jock opened his mouth to say something else, but Trusty put a brown paw over his muzzle. The two friends nodded their farewells to their neighbor, then the sweater-wearing terrier and saggy-faced bloodhound trotted out of Jim and Darling’s yard. It was a bright blue day, too early to come home to their loving owners, so Jock and Trusty decided they’d wander down to the new dog park and test out Tramp’s rather questionable advice.</p><p>Now, it was always difficult to sleep when personal inquiries had been made. Tramp rolled on his side, he tried sleeping on his back, then on his tummy again, but the bee in his brain wouldn’t stop buzzing. It was no great offense that Jock should come to him for dating advice, but that really was ages ago… he’d dropped the “The.” His street days were over.</p><p>But they sure were golden, weren’t they?</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Jim and Darling’s day always included some mess that Junior had gotten himself into, a play fight between the two more hyper puppies, Scamp and his sister Danielle, and a good dinner that the Mrs. had prepared for her husband. Often times he’d try to help her in the kitchen, but she always threw him out. Cooking was not one of Jim Dear’s strong suites.</p><p>And to keep in good shape, every day the couple took their family of no less than seven dogs for a walk around the neighborhood.</p><p>Generally, the dogs were quite good at keeping in order. Darling liked to walk in front, pushing her baby carriage so the neighbors would stop to admire James Junior — deep down, all mothers know that their child is the most attractive in the world, and they love to show off. Junior could walk on his own now, and although his mother held his hand tightly, he loved to wander free. When his parents weren’t watching, he sometimes wandered into the road. “Jimmy, stay on the sidewalk!” his mother cried, pulling him back back frantically. “You mustn’t go on the street, baby. It’s too dangerous now.”</p><p>Lady would always accompany her mistress, and her three beautiful daughters followed behind her. Sometimes the Mrs. had to hold on tight to tomboyish Danielle’s leash, but her more proper sisters Annette and Colette were good at keeping her in line.</p><p>Behind the girls came Jim Dear, and he walked with Tramp. In days past it used to be a nightmare to walk Scamp, who’d always steal off somewhere and sniff everything imaginable — and some unimaginable — but now the pup was slightly better-behaved. Scamp appeared to be the same matty-haired Schanuzer mutt as his father, even though he was actually half purebred-Cocker Spaniel. But one wouldn’t know it by looking at him.</p><p>He liked to walk beside Angel, a cream-colored girl with fluffy ears and tail and a new collar on her neck. She’d always smile when he’d trip and call him Tenderfoot.</p><p>But this evening she walked with his three sisters, and she hadn’t smiled once.</p><p>Scamp hung back to walk alongside his father, a ways back from the girls. “Hey, pops? You notice anything wrong with, uh…” Here, he nodded in Angel’s direction.</p><p>Tramp lowered his voice, sensing this was a private matter. “Hadn’t noticed. Why?”</p><p>“I dunno,” Scamp whispered. “It’s just the past couple days, she’s been…”</p><p>“What? Is she sick? Oh, if she threw up on Jim’s shoes — ”</p><p>“No, she’s not sick like that. But she seems sad.”</p><p>To this, Tramp had no immediate response. He glanced ahead at Angel, at the way she walked with her head down, shuffling instead of trotting proudly. Every time Lady or his girls said something to her, she’d put on a smile and laugh. But a bit hollow.</p><p>“Well, Whirlwind,” his father said, keeping quiet. “Maybe you should ask her.” When he had been the town’s most famous street dog, he’d have never suggested asking a woman directly how she felt. That was sappy, and The Tramp didn’t do sappy. But now that he’d settled into family life, Tramp knew good communication was the key to any relationship.</p><p>Scamp trotted up to his newfound best friend, a sweet girl who’d been dealt a bad hand of cards. She’d grown up playing poker, as much as she loathed it. He thought she looked lovely in her new lavender collar, same as his turquoise one. Then again, he always found her lovely. “Hey, hey, Angel!” he grinned. “Nice night, huh?”</p><p>“Sure is.” But she faked it again, he knew she did. Scamp had seen her smile with real delight — the day his family had adopted her — and this smile wasn’t real at all.</p><p>“What’s wrong? Did Jim Dear yell at you for chewing his shoes?”</p><p>“Only puppies chew shoes, Scamp.”</p><p>His little tail drooped, but she didn’t notice.</p><p>She’d played with the soon-to-be-toddler Junior that afternoon, but only because she was his new favorite since joining the house. She remembered the day when they’d welcomed her and Darling had said, “She’s a little angel.”</p><p>Only that wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words. The family had taken a long walk that evening, strolling by a part of town they didn’t usually pass. Three streets down, turn left at the farmer’s market, keep going past the big oak tree… a little one-story home.</p><p>That woman had cuddled her, kissed her, and chanted, “Oh, how precious! How absolutely precious! You’re just a perfect angel, aren’t you?”</p><p>But caring for a puppy wasn’t as easy as most people thought.</p><p>On the streets, she’d gotten that name, too. Everyone said she was so pretty, so pure-faced and golden-white furred that she was just a little… a little heaven-sent girl. Another of her homes had called her “Pearl.” The poor man who lived by the pier had named her “Luna.” So it wasn’t much of a surprise to hear “Angel” picked out once again.</p><p>She sighed, for now she’d seen Scamp was crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Tenderfoot, I… I don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe something I ate! That leftover meatloaf, for sure.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he chuckled, “it was pretty gross. Onions, yeesh!”</p><p>“Did she let Jim Dear make it?” she laughed.</p><p>Their giggles trailed off, and she looked away from him. Angel walked ahead and rejoined the three girls, who were more focused on presenting pretty and proper for the neighbors to see and didn’t ask her any questions. Lady glanced at her, then glanced back at Tramp and their one and only son.</p><p>Scamp shook his head, walking alongside his father, but almost hidden behind him. He gazed at her dismally. There was more than one way for dogs to bite each other.</p><p>“Don’t you fret, son. Sometimes women just get in the worst moods and there’s no understanding why.” Tramp winked playfully at his boy, who beamed anew.</p><p>Lady’s eyes widened. She turned her nose up.</p><p>The family was soon back in Snob Hill, passing beautiful summer trees and fine fences to return to their charming home. When they turned into the yard, the dogs made off predictably — Annette and Colette pranced up the front steps, followed by their mother, Lady, who was decidedly avoiding Tramp’s eyes. Scamp and his sister Danielle took to running around the yard, yapping and tumbling. Tramp saw his family was all safe. He didn’t seem to notice Angel.</p><p>Normally, she’d have played with Scamp and Danielle, or said she was too big for that and followed Lady inside, but not today. She nosed around the yard, head down.</p><p>Then her ears perked. Her nose picked up a scent, a familiar one.</p><p>It wasn’t long until Tramp, whose nose never failed him, was on the same path as Angel. There was a new dog in their yard, around the back of the house, who didn’t belong. But just like Angel, he too recognized the distinct smell of an old friend.</p><p>Tramp and Angel both dashed around the yard, the only two who’d noticed. When they stopped, both of their jaws dropped. The stranger called, “Angel, hon!”</p><p>But she was no stranger. This was a pretty old mutt of an almost indistinguishable breed, maybe Lhasa Apso or some kind of Spaniel, with cream-colored fur that was dirtier from the streets. She waved her poofy ears, shook her curled tail. She smiled so wide.</p><p>“What are you doing in this neck of the woods?” Tramp laughed. He happily trotted up to her, sniffing every part of his old friend. “Not looking for me, are you?”</p><p>“Oh, you wish I was, don’t you?” She knew how to walk a scene, for she’d once been a performing dog in a traveling dog-and-pony show before they’d decided she was one too many mouths to feed. The drama was natural for her. Part of her still enjoyed it.</p><p>“None of that now, Peggy,” he coughed. “I’ve settled.”</p><p>“I know you have. It was the talk of the century on these streets.” Peg batted her eyes at him. “Nearly broke poor Ruby’s heart, if she still has one. You sure cracked mine.”</p><p>“Peg,” Tramp sounded sterner now. “No trouble, please.”</p><p>“Darn. Well, believe it or not, you’re just an added bonus today.”</p><p>“Then why are you here?”</p><p>He wasn’t a dull dog by any measure, but it took him a moment to realize he wasn’t the only dog in her world. That she was staring at the quiet girl behind him.</p><p>Angel smiled for the first time that day. “Hey, Mom.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Runaways</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angel knew this day would come. She hadn’t seen her mother in ages, or what felt like ages, but here she was. Wagging her tail like they weren’t completely different dogs now.</p><p>“Of course…” Tramp shook his head, glancing between mother and daughter. One he’d known in a past life, the other in a new one. “How did I not see it?”</p><p>Angel couldn’t meet his eyes. “I… I should’ve told you before.”</p><p>“Nah, kiddo. Your life is your life.” He walked in a circle to pick a spot to lie down in the grass. He didn’t want this getting out of hand, or any more awkward than it already was. “But I always thought you reminded me of someone. Now I know who.”</p><p>Tramp didn’t know why exactly his old flame had come to their yard, even if just to see her daughter. Peg was the type of gal who wanted something, even if she never voiced it, it was clear she was asking for more than she was saying. He liked the song and dance as much as any bachelor — not that he still was one, of course — but her antics had grown weary. He’d wanted something different, something safer, something more ladylike. At least he did.</p><p>Time passes with rose-colored glasses.</p><p>But Angel didn’t seem as fond of her memories as Tramp was of his. “Why are you here? When you left me in the junkyard, I figured…” She looked at the grass, scowling. “I figured you were over me. Why else would you tell me to stay in that dump?”</p><p>“Over you? Baby, I’ll never be over you. You’re my little girl.”</p><p>Angel’s bottom lip quivered. She couldn’t keep her frown steady.</p><p>“Listen, I'm sorry about the junkyard… that was for your own good, honest. You know the dogcatcher was always on my tail. The longer you stayed with me, the more danger you were in.” Peg shrugged oh-so-casually. “Kept you out of the pound. And safety in numbers, right?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t call the Junkyard Dogs safe.”</p><p>That was a name they were all too familiar with. For some years there’d been a gang of dogs that ransacked the town and escaped to the junkyard, hiding from the dogcatchers behind mountains of garbage bags, broken furniture, and auto scraps. Angel had spent too many months of her life hanging with those strays. Peg always mingled and left, coming for the food and ditching when trouble began. Tramp’s history with them was messy, to put it lightly.</p><p>“Angel’s right — no puppy belongs in that gang.” Tramp wasn’t usually one to chastise, but becoming a parent had changed his outlook on just about everything. “Buster’s trouble was always Buster’s trouble. That dog never cared for anyone but himself.”</p><p>Peg flashed a smirk. “Not what I heard, handsome.”</p><p>Tramp froze where he stood. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing back.</p><p>Whatever passed between them in that moment, it was lost on Angel. The only thing registering in her mind was the fact that her mother was here, once again, and it made Angel want to weep for joy and bitter disappointment.</p><p>“I miss ya, baby,” Peg said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'm lonely in this run-down town. And I love ya. Ain't that enough for you and me?”</p><p>“Tramp? Who are you talking to?”</p><p>He realized with a groan that his beautiful brown Cocker Spaniel, his loving Lady, had picked the absolute worst time to turn her nose around the corner and listen to the conversation. Her eyes had never lost the sweet wonder of youth, but now there was a bit more wonder and a bit less sweet in them. Especially when Peg came into view.</p><p>“Hey… I remember you.” She sniffed noses with the old gal, not unfriendly. Lady was rarely unfriendly. “You were in the pound last year. You were nice to me.”</p><p>“My pleasure, hon. We girls gotta stick together.” Peg swished her tail nervously, and now her eyes were back on quiet Angel. There was fear as well as fondness in her gaze, like a dog afraid of being struck by their owner. Angel had a similar look about her. “In fact, that’s why I came to see Angel… my beautiful daughter. I want us together again.”</p><p>Lady’s eyes widened with surprise at the revelation, but upon comparing the mother and daughter, she could see the similarities. She didn’t ask questions—those came from the scruffy young pup who had followed his mother around the corner of the house, looking for his father and finding a meeting none had expected. The older dogs jolted when he spoke.</p><p>“Is that true, Angel? Is she really your mom?”</p><p>Scamp went to stand between his father and mother, a distance away from his new best friend. Angel gave him a small smile and nod. “She really is, Tenderfoot.”</p><p>“Oh, wow!” Scamp woofed excitedly. “Nice to meet you.”</p><p>“Same to you, kid.” She winked at him, marveling at how much he looked like his father. With Scamp, there were now five dogs gathered in the yard, which was three too many for Peg’s taste. “Well, I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone, but I guess they’d hear it eventually.” Peg sighed, then began. “I’m skipping town. Been here long enough, and what good’s it done me? Nah, I figure it’s time to hit the high road… but I don’t wanna go by myself. I wondered if Angel — if you maybe wanted to...”</p><p>As her words trailed off, their true meaning sunk in. Lady and Tramp exchanged a look of uncertainty, while Scamp hadn’t quite pieced together what she was asking. But of course, the dog who really mattered was Angel, and she understood her mother’s request. “You want me to leave with you.” It was a statement, not a question.</p><p>Every dog in Jim and Darling’s backyard was silent.</p><p>“But Angel lives with us now! Our family adopted her, like she always wanted,” Scamp said frantically, his eyes darting between the adults. “She can’t leave.”</p><p>“You can’t decide that for her, Whirlwind,” his father said quietly.</p><p>“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to… right?”</p><p>Because Angel didn’t voice any answer, everyone present assumed she meant a different reply. Scamp believed she agreed with him, since she didn’t say otherwise. Tramp thought she looked like she wanted to go but wished she could stay. Lady thought she wanted to stay but wished she could go. And Peg believed she did want to leave and couldn’t bring herself to break it to Scamp. Everyone knew Angel’s answer — everyone but Angel.</p><p>She faced her mother. “You’re not leaving right now, are you?”</p><p>“First thing tomorrow,” Peg said dolefully. She could see the anxiousness on her daughter’s face. “Listen, baby, I understand if you wanna stay. You got food here, a roof over your head. What right do I have to ask you to leave it all?”</p><p>Poor old Peggy hung her head and turned tail, sensing that she’d come to Snob Hill in vain. After all, what former stray would ever want to return to the streets when they lived in such a comfortable home? Especially when it was with a mother who’d left her in a junkyard. Peg began the slow walk back to the gate, back to the sidewalks.</p><p>The Darling’s dogs wished their owners had infinite wealth, infinite space to adopt every street dog who appeared in their yard. But that was foolish, and they knew it. Lady, Tramp, and Scamp watched the mother mutt leaving with heavy hearts.</p><p>Angel tiptoed forward. “Wait, Mom…”</p><p>Peg turned around before she was out the gate, a renewed twinkle in her eyes. “Think about it, okay? I’ll be waiting at our old meeting spot. I’ll be there until morning.”</p><p>“The carousel in the park,” Angel whispered, remembering the times she and her mom got separated fleeing the dogcatcher. They always found each other at the carousel. Her mother flashed her a smile, which didn’t quite make up for a lifetime of uncertainty, but to a desperate daughter, it was a start. “Goodbye, baby,” Peg said. Then she winked at the famous former stray. “And goodbye, handsome.”</p><p>With that, she disappeared. Angel watched her till she was out of view.</p><p>Once she couldn’t see her anymore, she trudged back into the house with her head bowed, not saying a word. Scamp wanted to say something, anything to make her smile — he wanted to run after her, but he had enough sense to know now wasn’t the time. So his paws stayed planted in the backyard, safe beside his parents, and he whimpered.</p><p>“I’m sure she’s just tired,” Lady said to him, “and confused.”</p><p>Scamp buried his head in his mother’s arms like he hadn’t done since he was little. “You don’t really think she wants to go, do you? Why would she?”</p><p>“I couldn’t say,” she sighed, lying in the grass with her son. “But Peg is her mother, and Angel probably misses her more than you know.” Lady licked his cheek affectionately.</p><p>“Could you imagine if we were apart for a long time? Would you miss me?”</p><p>“Of course I would!” Scamp nuzzled her, nosing through her fur. She was familiar and comforting, and he’d be lost without her. Then he thought of Angel, and his ears drooped. “Oh.”</p><p>“Let’s go in. Jim Dear and Darling must be wondering what’s keeping us.”</p><p>Lady got up and shook grass out of her coat, then led her son back into the house. She’d expected her partner to follow automatically, but glancing behind her, she saw that Tramp was still sitting in the yard. He was sniffing the air where Peg had been.</p><p>“Come inside, dear,” she said patiently.</p><p>After a second or two, Tramp went with her up the steps and inside the house. But Angel hadn’t been the only one watching Peggy disappear into the warm summer night.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>There was a beautiful park in the sleepy little town, full of lush trees and bushes and open meadows ideal for picnics. In the hours of night, the park was serene. When there was a couple, it was perfectly romantic, but when one was by themselves, it could be unnerving.</p><p>Peg had situated herself at the base of the old carousel. The children’s ride was shaped like a tent, red-and-white striped with statues of animals on poles that went round and round. There was a pony, a horse, a lion, even an alligator, and many more. Peg was beneath the silly-looking giraffe. It’d been Angel’s favorite when she was little.</p><p>But the dog who approached her wasn’t Angel.</p><p>“Well,” Peg said, grinning deviously at her visitor. “I always wished I’d travel your way again. Now you’re traveling mine.”</p><p>Tramp couldn’t keep from smiling himself — it really was contagious. But he had enough self-control to back off when she brushed up against him. “I’m not here for any nonsense, Peggy. I told you, I’m with Lady.”</p><p>“Not sure I believe you… Once a tramp, always a tramp.”</p><p>He took a deep breath as she swished her tail across his face. Tramp remembered how much fun they used to have around town, and how long it’d been since he’d had fun like that… chasing chickens, among other things. He wondered if he’d spend the rest of his life sleeping on a comfortable sofa in Snob Hill. How much life did he have left, anyways?</p><p>Tramp shook his head to banish those thoughts. “I’m just here to see an old friend before she skips town. For old times’ sake.”</p><p>They strolled around the carousel together, laughing at the expressions on the animals’ faces. They reminded him of the funny fellows at the local zoo, whom he hadn’t seen since moving in with Jim Dear and Darling. It vaguely irked him that he had to wait for his owners to go to the zoo, since he could no longer go wherever he wanted whenever he pleased.</p><p>“You really think Angel will be happier with you? On the streets again?”</p><p>Peg just shrugged. “I dunno. Would you be?”</p><p>That was a dangerous question that Tramp left unanswered.</p><p>“I never knew you had a daughter,” he said instead.</p><p>“You wouldn’t. She was born after you settled down.” Peg knew he’d dodged the question, of course, but that just amused her. “Her dad was from the pound. Nice Pomeranian fella, but not as dashing as you. Haven’t seen him since we all escaped.”</p><p>“You never loved him, did you? Not like you love Angel.”</p><p>Peg sighed wearily. “But does she love me anymore? I doubt it.”</p><p>“She still does. I could tell this evening, watching her.”</p><p>“Then I wish she’d run away with me.”</p><p>“It would break my son’s heart if she did.”</p><p>She walked ahead and fluffed her tail up again, looking back at him with a sly grin. Sultry and aloof, that was her style. “Dogs like us gotta break a few hearts. We lead each other on, then we leave when things get too warm and fuzzy. It’s our nature.”</p><p>“I’m different now. I have a human. I have a family.”</p><p>“I think you’re still The Tramp deep down.”</p><p>The night sky was beautiful up above them, a true bella notte, and twinkling stars were visible beyond the canopy of tree leaves. It was dark and quiet in the park, and it seemed as though Tramp were far, far away from the rest of the world. His heart ached for days that had come and gone, his tenure on the streets, his infamous life as The Tramp… but maybe that didn’t all have to be gone. Maybe he could have one last night of thrills with Peg.</p><p>Then he remembered another night he’d spent in the park, another bella notte. He remembered putting paw prints in wet cement, crossing over the bridge, and falling in love under the stars… with his Lady. The beaver dam broke and guilt flooded him.</p><p>“Goodbye, Peggy. I hope you’re happy, wherever you end up.”</p><p>Her smile faded. “It was nice seeing you again. For old times’ sake.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Scamp, will you walk outside with me?”</p><p>The young dog yawned. “It’s really late, Angel...”</p><p>“I know, but I need to talk with you. Alone.”</p><p>Sleepy though he was, Scamp could sense the urgency of her request. He got up from his doggy bed in Jim and Darling’s pantry, blinked his eyes awake, and followed Angel out of the back door and into the yard. Fortunately, he didn’t wake up any of his snoozing family.</p><p>“Wonder where Dad went,” he mused. His father had mentioned needing to get some fresh air, but that had been a while ago and he still wasn’t back yet. He wondered where he could possibly be that was more enticing than being with his family.</p><p>“Can we walk into town? Not far, just a few blocks,” she whispered, promptly making for an opening in the fence. It was terribly late, but Scamp could make out Angel’s bright fur in the darkness. He followed her without question.</p><p>They squeezed through the fence and were out on the sidewalk. He wondered why she wanted to go out again — they’d been walked earlier that evening, hadn’t they? — but she soon make herself apparent. “I never told you about my five old families, did I?”</p><p>“No, but I figured it was, y’know, sensitive.” Scamp was anxious, but he couldn’t say why. “You said they all let you go because of allergies, a new baby, or something.”</p><p>“For the first few, yeah… but not all of them.” Angel had led him into one of the town’s back alleys, which he suddenly realized was the very same alley they’d first met nearly two months ago in July, behind the spice shop. Where he’d shown off his “slick moves” from the School of Hard Knocks. She’d grown quiet, her lip quivering.</p><p>“I’m… I’m gonna tell you something I never told anyone else.” She hesitated, then took a deep breath and began. “The first people who took me in, the woman was allergic. The second couple had a new baby and were afraid I might make it sick somehow. The third family… well, I dunno why they kicked me out. They just did. I guess I was too much effort.”</p><p>“Oh, Angel, that’s awful.” His ears drooped as he whimpered.</p><p>She continued her tale. “Whenever they did, I’d find my mother again and we’d get by okay. Then she decided the Junkyard Dogs were safer than she was, so I… I fell in with Buster. They were dumb, but kinda fun, y’know? Even Buster was okay sometimes.” Angel brushed past the trash cans they’d knocked over when they first met, still in the same spot. She smiled at the good memory. “Then a fourth person found me, a man who lived by the river, and he… he was nice. Named me Luna. But I got so scared that he’d kick me out again that I… I left myself.”</p><p>Now tears were welling up in her eyes, though she tried to fight them. “I went back to Buster’s gang and laid low, but before long a fifth family took me in. They fed me, played with me, but I… I ran away again. Went back to Buster. I never told him where I’d been — you know his opinion of house dogs — and this time, I stayed in the junkyard. Until we met.”</p><p>There was silence in the alley, save for a few bugs buzzing. Scamp shook his head, unsure what to say. This all just seemed so wrong. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you always want a family? Why would you run away?”</p><p>“Don’t you understand? I’m scared of being kicked out again.” Now her voice was starting to crack, and tears wet her fur. “So I leave them before they can leave me.”</p><p>“But if you keep on like that, you’ll never have a real family.”</p><p>“I know. I want a family so bad, but… I’m not brave enough to stay with one.”</p><p>“Wait, Angel… you don’t mean you’re gonna…”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Tenderfoot. I brought you here to say goodbye.”</p><p>She sniffed back her tears, but now he was starting to cry himself. He couldn’t believe this was happening — he was sure it was a nightmare, but splashing through a puddle in the alley didn’t wake him up. “Don’t go, Angel! We love you — I love you!”</p><p>“It’s puppy love, Tenderfoot.”</p><p>She leapt on top of trash can, then hopped to another, just like they’d done back in July. Only this time instead of knocking them over to spill the garbage, Angel smoothly jumped onto a high fence in the alley, balancing on the wooden planks. She looked down at Scamp, fresh tears in her pretty eyes. She wanted one last look so she’d always remember him, because no matter where she went, Angel would treasure the time they’d spent together.</p><p>She just couldn’t bring herself to tell him that.</p><p>“Angel! Angel, please! Please don’t go!” he begged and begged. His breathing quickened and his young heart pounded frantically.</p><p>She disappeared over the fence and quickly ran off down the street, turning the corner and vanishing from sight. Scamp immediately tried to jump the trash cans like she'd done to chase after her, but he stumbled and knocked the cans over, falling to the ground and spilling trash all over himself. He shook a rotten banana peel off his head, tears stinging his eyes.</p><p>“Angel, come back!” he cried, trying in vain to jump the fence. “Angel! Angel!”</p><p>As she ran, his voice grew fainter and fainter. She heard him hopelessly screaming her name long after she was several blocks away.</p><p>She’d run the town at night many times, but never did all the automobiles and building tops look so dark and looming, like they were all asking her if she’d made the right decision. Angel tried to block out those questions because she didn’t have an answer. She never did. All she knew was that no matter how painful this was, it was better than letting herself get her hopes up only to be dashed yet again in a few weeks. Jim and Darling had six dogs already when they adopted her — how likely was it they’d have kept her? No, she couldn’t risk that.</p><p>Angel knew that Scamp would try to follow her, but she knew the town far better than him. A trick alley here, a jumped fence there, and he’d never follow her trail. Even if he wound up at the carousel in the park, it wouldn’t be until the morning. She and her mother would be long gone by then. “Mom? It’s me. It’s Angel.”</p><p>Peg almost jumped in surprise upon seeing her daughter creep through the park bushes, approaching the old carousel where she waited. “Oh, Angel, you came! I hoped and hoped, but I didn’t think you’d actually — ”</p><p>“I did.” Angel beamed at her joy. “I did come.”</p><p>“My little girl! I know I was a terrible mother to you — I never should’ve left you with the Junkyard Dogs — I hope I can make it all up to you.”</p><p>“No, Mom, you weren’t terrible. I understand why you took me to them.” Angel rubbed her head under her mother’s chin. “They did keep me safe, honestly. I forgive you.” That made Peg smile so wide, and though her matted fur fell in her eyes, Angel could see her blinking back tears. She’d thought wrong earlier — they weren’t completely different dogs now. After all this time, her mother was still her mother.</p><p>“That means so much to me,” Peg whispered, nuzzling her. They embraced for a moment longer, then walked together around the children’s carousel, remembering.</p><p>“We met here all the time, didn’t we?” the mother mused. “There was that day we ran from mean old Reggie after you stole that can of his. We split up and came here.”</p><p>“I think you stole his can, if I remember right,” Angel chuckled. “But Reggie got himself thrown in the pound recently.”</p><p>“I heard that on the street. How’d he get caught, anyways?”</p><p>“It was all Scamp! Reggie was chasing him because of a stupid test Buster put him up to, then a dogcatcher got me. Scamp freed me from his net and got Reggie caught instead.” Angel had smiled at the memory, but then her face fell. “Scamp was so brave.”</p><p>“What’s wrong, baby?” Peg frowned.</p><p>“I’m gonna miss Tenderfoot. Is it right to abandon him like this?”</p><p>“Look, hon. I’m leaving town to start fresh, but if that’s not what you want — if you’d rather stay here with Scamp — then that’s okay. You should stay with him.”</p><p>“No, Momma, I… I wanna leave with you. I’ll miss everyone who’s been kind here, especially Scamp, but I’m ready to move on.” Angel locked eyes with her mother. “I wanna be with you because I love him, but… I love you more.”</p><p>“Do you... really mean that?”</p><p>Angel nodded seriously, and Peggy was on the verge of tears.</p><p>“Well, then, let’s go. Just you and me.” She led her away from the carousel and it’s memories, on the path out of the park, and onto the next destination in their great escape. It’d been fun flirting with the boys here, having a few laughs, singing a few songs, but the pound was too often her home. The bags under her eyes darkened each day. So Peggy had made a plan to take them out of town and towards the horizon, towards a new life.</p><p>Her daughter laughed. “So we get to be runaways, Momma?”</p><p>“Sure thing. We’ll be the best runaways ever.”</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Buster's Trouble</h2></a>
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    <p>The morning shone bright over the rooftops of the town, the steeple of the church, while everyone began their day. Tony and Joe started baking fresh bread for the day’s meals, and the dogcatcher started his engine and made his rounds, looking for strays. The paperboy rode by on his bicycle, tossing the newspaper at every house on his route.</p><p>Now in Snob Hill, the paper landed at the home of James and Elizabeth Brown, more affectionately known as Jim Dear and Darling. But that morning, Jim knew something was wrong because he had to retrieve the morning’s paper himself.</p><p>“Do you know where Tramp is? He didn’t fetch me the paper today,” Jim asked, opening the newspaper at the dining table. But neither man nor wife had seen him that day. For the matter, Scamp and Angel were also gone. Three of their dogs missing.</p><p>Lady peeked around the corner. She’d woken up alone for the first time in a long time. Tramp said he was going for a walk last night but hadn’t returned.</p><p>Surely it was a coincidence that Peg had shown up that same day?</p><p>She couldn’t have known that her Tramp was currently walking down the sidewalks and alleyways that he knew so well. He yawned, for he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night after his late talk with Peggy. Tramp had intended to get home before Lady or his owners woke up, not wanting to worry them — but when he saw the paperboy cycling away from Snob Hill’s direction, his basket empty, he knew he was too late.</p><p>“Guess I have some explaining to do,” he sighed, heading that way.</p><p>But a few streets over, he picked up a scent he knew well, one who shouldn’t have been about town. “Whirlwind?” He found his very own Scamp sleeping in the next alley over. Tramp prodded his puppy awake. “What are you doing out here, son?”</p><p>“...Angel? Angel!” Scamp yelped as he awoke. He immediately ran around the alley in a frenzy, then looked at his father in a panic. “Where’d she go, Dad?”</p><p>“Whoa, whoa! Slow down!” Tramp put a comforting paw around his son, holding him back. “What do you mean about Angel? And why aren’t you at home?”</p><p>“Last… Last night, Angel asked me to go into town with her. She was upset again, so we went and she…” Scamp bowed his head, sniffling, “...she ran away.”</p><p>“What? She couldn’t just — Oh, you mean she… she went with Peg.”</p><p>“Yes! She ditched me to track down her mom. I can’t believe she wasn’t happy with us,” he whimpered, turning around so his father wouldn’t see him cry. “I’ve — I’ve gotta find her and bring her back. I tried to follow her last night, but it was so late, I must’ve fallen asleep.”</p><p>“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just breathe and stay calm.” Tramp sat on the brick floor, beckoning his son to join him. Scamp reluctantly laid down and took a deep breath. “Listen to me. If Angel chose her mother over us, then you don’t really have any say in the matter. Angel is free to make her own choices. I’m glad she stayed with us while she did, but now she wants her mom back in her life. Is that so wrong of her?”</p><p>Scamp’s face fell. “But I… I love her, Dad.”</p><p>“Whirlwind, you’re a puppy. You might like her a lot, but truth be told, you barely know her. You can’t just say you love her after spending a couple days — ”</p><p>“A couple days?” Anger flushed his face. “How long did you know Mom before deciding you loved each other? Oh, right, a couple days!”</p><p>“Son, that’s enough. Your mother and I were older when we met. I’m sorry Angel left the way she did, but that was her decision, not yours. Now let’s go home.”</p><p>“No! I won’t lose her!” Before his father could say or do anything, Scamp had darted out of the alleyway shouting, “I’m gonna bring her home!”</p><p>“Scamp, stop this! Come back at once!” Tramp charged after him, but a night with no sleep — not to mention his lack of youthfulness — all took their toll. Scamp was a block ahead of his father already, then two blocks, then he turned a corner and was gone.</p><p>“Scamp!” he called hopelessly, following him into the alley. But the overturned trash bins and boxes told him that Scamp had already jumped the fence. It took Tramp two tries to get over the wooden fence himself, and his son was nowhere in sight. He had his scent, but his leg ached from landing poorly over the fence and he could no longer run. Even if he followed his son’s trail, he’d never keep up with him — the kid’s nickname wasn’t for nothing.</p><p>“Oh, Whirlwind…” he sighed, shaking his head. “Gone again.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Far across town, on the wrong side of the tracks, was a local junkyard that anyone with any sense avoided. Parents forbid their children from going there, for the rusty metal and sharp auto parts were dangerous, but a few always snuck there anyways to play with matches and chew tobacco. There were always homeless folks who scavenged the trash or lit a fire in a tin trash bin, but policemen chased them away. Harder to get rid of were the dogs.</p><p>For many years now, strays had come to hide from the dogcatcher, to dig for food, to play, to sleep, to live. There’d even been a gang who made it their turf once upon a time.</p><p>“Rise and shine, Junkyard Dogs! Wakey, wakey!”</p><p>The call came from an intimidating dog, a clear mix of Doberman and Rottweiler. He was a muscular mutt of large stature, with uncropped ears and fearsome eyes. He stood on a mattress atop a small mountain of broken furniture and busted scraps, but then he hopped on a car hood and slid to solid ground. He grinned a shark-like grin.</p><p>“C’mon, c’mon, where are ya guys?” the Rotterman barked until finally, two animals poked their heads out of their hiding places. A shivering brown Chihuahua emerged from a chest of drawers, and a black rat scurried out from under an overturned bathtub.</p><p>“There ya are! Morning, Pip,” he greeted the Chihuahua with a smile that showed off his very large, very sharp teeth. Poor little Pip looked ready to faint. “And good morning to ya, Squeak!” the massive mutt said to the black rat, who squeaked a reply.</p><p>“So whadda we do today, fellas?” he asked his tiny companions. “We can steal from tha butcher, we could chase tha mailman — heck, we can do anything we want! Know why?”</p><p>Neither Pip nor Squeak harbored a guess.</p><p>“Cause we are footloose and collar-free, boys! We’re wild street dogs!” the big dog cheered. “Well, except ya, Squeak, but that’s okay. Ya my buddy, ain’t ya?”</p><p>Squeak looked at him blankly, nibbling a crumb.</p><p>“Aah, c’mon, say ya my buddy. Say it!”</p><p>Squeak squeaked. The boss dog growled, kicked the rat with his back baw, and sent him tumbling back under the chipped bathtub. “Pfft. Who needs a dumb rat, anyways?”</p><p>He whipped around. “What about ya, Pip? Ain’t ya my buddy?” The Chihuahua was nowhere to be seen, though the chest of drawers quaked with fright. “Hmph. Whatever. Who needs ya? Buster don’t need no one but himself.”</p><p>The Dober-Rott known as Buster made a mighty leap to a toppled dresser, jumped and balanced on a bicycle wheel, then bounded onto trash bags atop a mountain of junk. Buster looked down proudly at the heaps and piles of debris before him. What dog in all the U.S. of A. had a kingdom as grand as this? Buster was living large indeed.</p><p>“Don’t need none of the old gang,” he barked defiantly, though he didn’t know who he was defying. “Don’t need Ruby or Sparky or Francois! Don’t need Scratchy or Mooch!”</p><p>He rolled his eyes and huffed grumpily. “Don’t need Scampalooser, that’s for sure! Don’t even need my Angel Cakes!” There was one dog left to name. As he looked around the town — atop trash mountain, Buster had a good view of the buildings and brick roads, from the railway station all the way to the river — he knew any dog would be crazy to give all this up. To turn his back on the streets, on freedom itself.</p><p>He hated every dog who had. “And I don’t need Tha Tramp.”</p><p>The name must’ve been cursed because as soon as he’d said it, some junk at the bottom of the pile gave way. In an instant, his mountain of trash collapsed and the dog came crashing to the ground, landing hard on his side and twisting his back left paw upon impact.</p><p>“Aaagh! Oww! Geez!” Buster yelped, struggling to stand. He saw Squeak watching him from a trash bin. “Ya think I'm funny, ya dumb rat? Yeah, laugh it up! Laugh it — Oww!”</p><p>He roared in pain when he tried to put pressure on his back paw, then slammed back to the ground. He gritted his teeth and tried to get up again, but he was defeated. He laid his head down, groaning. “Pip? Squeak? Can anyone lend a paw here?” If they heard him, neither animal said anything. “Sure, leave me lying here. Ya don’t care about me.”</p><p>The Dober-Rott resigned himself to laying in the junkyard like a rabbit hit by a car. He was pretty sure buzzards would be circling overhead soon.</p><p>He shut his eyes and sighed. “Who ever has?”</p><p>Buster didn’t know how long he laid there, hungry, alone, and in pain, but when he next looked up at the sky, he could see the sun was higher than when he’d fallen. The higher it rose, the hotter it got in the junkyard — especially with all that scrap metal around him — and soon Buster was panting and groaning on the dirty ground.</p><p>The heat must’ve made him delirious because he thought he saw the shadows of two dogs running through the dump together. He heard their barking, their youthful laughter. He knew he was the only dog around, but it sounded so real.</p><p>One of them was a black-and-brown mix, strong for his age, with joy in his eyes. The other was a scrappy young mutt: lean, gray, and handsome with a mischievous smile.</p><p>It was their junkyard. It was their town. They’d first met each other in that dump and that was where they spent their days together, playing tag and running races around the heaps of garbage. They were young and stupid, and they did young and stupid things with each other. They were buddies. They were more than buddies.</p><p>Buster growled the memory away. That was a lifetime ago.</p><p>“C’mon, ya wanna be roadkill or what?” he growled to himself, pushing himself up with all his might. “Grrr! C’mon, beautiful!” He somehow managed to get back on his paws, pain searing his hind leg, but he was up. He was walking — very shaky, very unsteady — but he was walking. Buster limped out of the junkyard.</p><p>On his way out, he saw Squeak looking up at him.</p><p>“Whaddya care where I'm going?” Buster gritted his teeth in pain. “Uggh, oww… If ya really wanna know, I'm gonna find that traitor Tha Tramp. We got a score to settle.”</p><p>The rat squeaked rather suggestively.</p><p>“No, I don’t miss him! And I'm not lonely!” he barked. “I'm gonna find him and beat him up real good — that’ll show him — that’ll show ya I don’t miss him.”</p><p>Buster marched out of the junkyard in spite of his protesting back paw. He limped down the sidewalk, and the further he went, the more his pain became slightly more tolerable. Maybe he just got used to it. The dump was a long way from Snob Hill, but Buster was determined to get revenge on his former friend — his former more than friend — his former, well, he didn’t know what they’d been. He just hated that they ever were.</p><p>Any feeling this strong about another had to be hate.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>He had no time to waste. Tramp retraced the sidewalks around the blocks of their neighborhood, as quick as his sore legs could carry him. He had a duty as a father to his son, as a partner to his Lady, and as the head of his family — to keep his family together — but first he had to make sure his home knew where he was. And what had changed overnight.</p><p>He ignored his aching joints and back and ran full speed ahead along the fence, bolting into their yard. “Lady!” he called, then had to stop to catch his breath. His heart was racing but his mind was dead set on the task at hand. His ears perked for an answer.</p><p>Jim Dear must’ve been at work already, and Darling had to be out about town with Junior, because neither of their humans responded to him barking in the yard. The one who did was, thankfully, his Lady. She approached slowly down the steps. “Tramp.”</p><p>“Pidge, thank goodness, I don’t have long — I have to leave.”</p><p>Her beautiful, poofy ears jumped back in shock. “You have to what?”</p><p>“Yes, I gotta hurry. I just came to tell you — ”</p><p>“You’re leaving town. With her.” The pretty Cocker Spaniel looked more like a Basset hound when she uttered those terrible words. “You were gone all night, you said you just needed a walk but then you… right after she shows up, you — ”</p><p>“What? Who’s her? Calm down, slow down, alright?” he said, sounding far more irked than he realized. “I don’t know what you think, but you’re assuming here.”</p><p>“Excuse me? How naive do you think I am?”</p><p>“Pidge! Don’t be like this!” Tramp shook his head, bewildered at the direction this conversation had gone. The sun was high already, and she was wasting time. “Yeah, I took a walk, but I — I went further than I planned, and it was late and I was tired. I slept in an alley. But that’s not what’s important. Early this morning — ”</p><p>“You’re lying. I’m no Bloodhound, but my nose still works.”</p><p>“What do you — What are implying now?”</p><p>“I can smell Peg all over you.”</p><p>Tramp would never forget how her voice raised, her eyes wetted, when she made that accusation. This was his sweet Lady, the love of his life, and this was what she thought of him. Worst part was how he feared she was very much right.</p><p>He wished to be sensible and calmly explain that he'd meant her no disrespect when he snuck out to see sweet old Peggy, and he wanted to apologize for giving her cause to doubt him. He’d remembered their bella notte in the park with such fondness that it pained him.</p><p>But in the heat of the moment, one rarely does what they later wished they’d done.</p><p>“How can you think that? Don’t you know me by now?”</p><p>“Tramp, be honest with me… listen to me… that’s all I want.”</p><p>“I did see Peg, but only to talk to her about Angel.”</p><p>It was unclear whether or not Lady believed him, but she had enough concern for Angel to stop and listen to him now. The girl was like one of her own, even if she was really Peg’s. So she let him explain at last. “We weren’t sure if Angel would choose her or us, but then it was so late that I dozed off, and in the morning I — I found Scamp. He followed Angel out last night. He told me Angel did run away, just like we feared.”</p><p>Lady bowed her head. “I’ll miss her, but if it’s what she wants…”</p><p>“That’s not the problem. Scamp ran away after her.”</p><p>“What? He’s gone again?” She looked horrified. “Why didn’t you stop him?”</p><p>“I tried, but he was so fast and I’m… not as quick as I used to be,” he sighed miserably, not meeting her incredulous glare. “I chased him, Pidge, but I… I couldn’t keep up.”</p><p>“Oh, Tramp…” Suddenly she felt ashamed of herself, and all of her emotions rolled together. Fear for her son’s safety, anger at Tramp’s initial lie, and sorrowful pity for his failure. “What are we going to do?”</p><p>“I’m gonna find him. That’s what I came to tell you in the first place! I have to leave — I have to get Trusty to come with me. His nose is the only thing that might pick up Scamp’s trail… since he actually is a Bloodhound.”</p><p>Lady’s ears and tail drooped. “Oh, I… I shouldn’t have...”</p><p>But he had already left her side, apparently not in the mood for a half-hearted apology. When a dog barked at another, the deed could not be forgotten. He was making for the gate, shouting, “I won’t come home without him, I promise!”</p><p>And he was gone. Presumably he was running towards where Jock and Trusty lived so he could once again enlist the Bloodhound in a rescue mission — that was the direction he was going — and that should’ve reassured her, but it wasn’t enough.</p><p>He disappeared and he took her trust with him. She knew that wasn’t fair, but how could she help it? He smelled of Peg. He avoided telling her. Now Scamp and Angel were both gone, and maybe her mate, too. She didn’t know anything for certain anymore. In the span of two days, their wonderful, loving home had to deal with these troubling family matters. The Cocker Spaniel’s jaw quivered, and before she could stop herself, she began to cry. Lady knew it solved nothing. She knew nothing. She could do nothing else.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>A lot of things made Buster angry — he was a passionate guy, after all — but Snob Hill might’ve been the worst offender. The pretty painted houses, all two stories, with their immaculate yards and fancy fences, it all made him want to yell. Why anyone would want to live in all that fakeness, he had no idea. Buster’s life was more real than any of theirs.</p><p>He didn’t get three square meals a day and a comfy bed. He scavenged for food, often went hungry, and was always itchy. He preferred that to the Cushy Pillow Life anyday.</p><p>So it was that Buster limped up the sidewalks of Snob Hill, resenting their luxury, resenting The Tramp for his indulgence. Buster was more than scorned. It was the honor of the streets he defended against the prissy life The Tramp chose.</p><p>All of that manifested in the girl that The Tramp ditched him for in the first place. Of course, Buster always knew his best friend was a hopeless romantic — that was part of why Buster liked him, though he’d never admit it — but it was crazy to imagine that one girl had stolen his heart away. Sure, girls were fine, but you didn’t pick just one.</p><p>“What’s so special about this broad, anyways?” he muttered. Buster knew where their home was because it was where his Junkyard Dogs had first encountered Scamp. He found the fence that Scampalooser had been chained behind, but he couldn’t jump it with a bad paw, so he limped around front instead.</p><p>“Yo, where are ya, Trampy? I know ya live here!” Buster barked obnoxiously loud. “Where are ya, old buddy, old pal of mine?”</p><p>A dog came out the front door, but she certainly wasn’t The Tramp. This was a purebred Cocker Spaniel with lengthy, golden-brown fur and darker ears. She wore a blue collar with a gold name tag. He couldn’t read it, of course, but he knew it said Lady.</p><p>As it happened, Buster had never seen her up close before. From afar a few times, but never had he stared at her chocolate eyes… never smelled her warm scent…</p><p>Never realized how perfectly beautiful she was.</p><p>“Can I help you?” she asked, polite but wary.</p><p>“Uhh… ah, uh… err…” He could only mumble incoherently.</p><p>“Pardon?” she said, a bit vexed. “I think you were looking for Tramp?”</p><p>“Ahh… ya… uh, yeah! Yeah, uh, Tha Tramp! Where’s he at?”</p><p>Yes, now he remembered. What was crazy was that Buster had come all the way here looking for him dumb old friend when he should’ve been looking for this lovely lady instead.</p><p>“I’m sorry to say Tramp is… not present at the moment,” she snipped.</p><p>He’d regained the use of his brain after being struck dumb. “Well, that’s — that’s okay. Who cares about Tha Tramp anyway, right?” He laughed, but she certainly did not.</p><p>“I’m sorry, but who are you? What’s your name?”</p><p>As she walked down the porch steps and very, very hesitantly drew nearer to him, he couldn’t seem to remember his name. She stared at him, he blinked twice. He wondered if she could hear the birds chirping in his brain. “Uhh… Buster!”</p><p>“Buster?” Lady’s eyes narrowed and she backed away. “You’re the one who caused my Scamp so much trouble on the Fourth of July! Oh, Tramp told me all about you no-good Junkyard Dogs! You’re why Scamp got thrown in the pound.”</p><p>“No! I mean, yeah, but I didn’t — okay, I did — but I shouldn’ta done.”</p><p>He tried to back up to not crowd her too much, but as he stepped back, he put too much pressure on his injured paw and the pain returned. Buster collapsed with a cry of pain.</p><p>Lady’s anger instantly vanished. “Oh, goodness! Are you alright?”</p><p>She ran over to him. It was humiliating for her to see him like this, but there wasn’t much he could do to stop her. “It’s my paw. I fell on it earlier — Aaagh!” He’d tried to stand again.</p><p>“Don’t move! Oh, you poor thing. Did you walk all the way from the junkyard to here on a twisted paw? Look how you’ve strained it!” she scolded, but the concern couldn’t stay out of her voice for long. She had tears in her eyes already, and Buster liked to think they were for him. “Why was it so important for you to see Tramp?”</p><p>To get sweet revenge, of course. That would’ve been the truthful thing to tell her, but there was something nice about a beautiful lady making such a fuss over him. Buster was almost glad for his fall. He thought about how she’d react if he answered honestly.</p><p>Then Buster thought of another answer. A more satisfying answer.</p><p>“I came here to… to apologize. To make things right between us. I caused Tramp and Scamp so much trouble this summer and I just wanted to say… I'm sorry.”</p><p>“Oh.” Lady slightly tilted her head, gazing at him curiously. “That’s good of you.” She crept so close to him that their bodies were touching. Buster realized she was helping him to stand, and the idea sent butterflies to his heart, head, and tummy.</p><p>He staggered up, wobbling till he regained his balance.. Together, Lady and Buster shuffled out of the front yard and around back, laying in the shadow cast by the house.</p><p>“I didn’t think you were sorry. To be honest, I didn’t think you were decent at all.” Lady sat only a few inches away. “Now I’m questioning everything Tramp’s ever told me.”</p><p>“Oh.” It was his turn to gaze curiously. Buster wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was starting to put two and two together. The Tramp wasn’t here, otherwise he’d have shown himself by now, and now she said this. “Do ya mean he… ”</p><p>“I don’t know. He said he’d return, but I don’t… Oh, why am I telling you this?”</p><p>“Tell me, I'll listen! I wanna hear what’s bothering ya. Talk to me.”</p><p>Cooling off in the shade, side by side, Lady felt foolish for talking to a stranger. It was absurd, but here she was crying to a dog who before today she’d thought of as wild and dangerous. Soon enough, the fence around her heart had lifted.</p><p>“I don’t know what’s happening to my family, Buster,” she sniffled. “I’m so worried about them. I think about them all the time.”</p><p>“Lemme tell ya what I've learned on tha streets: always look out for yaself first.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t think I could possibly…” But her words trailed off when they realized three young dogs were racing around the side of the house towards them. Three miniature versions of Lady herself — her three lovely daughters.</p><p>“Momma! Momma! What’s Scamp up to now?”</p><p>“What about Angel? And Dad? They’ve been gone for hours.”</p><p>“Momma, who’s this scary boy dog?”</p><p>“That’s very rude! Buster, I’m so sorry about them.”</p><p>The three girls began sniffing all over him, and of course he wanted to be on his best behavior, so he allowed it. Awkward as it was. They eyed him suspiciously.</p><p>“What are you doing in our yard?” blue-collared Annette sniffed disdainfully.</p><p>“Why is your fur so dirty and smelly?” red-collared Colette scoffed at him.</p><p>“Will you be my friend?” white-collared Danielle woofed happily.</p><p>“Girls, girls! Leave Mister Buster alone!” their mother scolded. “Go inside at once!”</p><p>Lady ushered her brood away from her visitor, chasing them back into the house and making them promise that they would treat strangers with a bit more respect from now on, no matter how dirty their fur was. When they were inside, Lady returned to him. She beckoned Buster to follow her over to the doghouse in the corner of the yard.</p><p>He limped alongside her, finally crashing inside the doghouse. She knelt beside him. “You see why I can’t put myself first? I’m a mother. I take care of everyone.”</p><p>“Even a scary boy dog with no collar like me?” he grinned, showing off his teeth.</p><p>Much to his surprise, she laughed a little. “You know, you’re not quite as scary as you might think. In fact, you’re sort of silly — in a pleasant way.”</p><p>He laid his head down on the straw, absentmindedly chewing the bone left in the doghouse. “Can ya call me that again? What ya said to ya girls.”</p><p>“What did I say?” she giggled. “Mister Buster?”</p><p>“That’s tha one. Kinda rhymes, don’t it? I like how ya say it.”</p><p>Lady flushed with embarrassment. Her better judgment left her and she smiled and giggled more than she should’ve. But it felt so nice to act young and silly. Even so, she didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. She only wanted his injury to get better.</p><p>“You can’t go anywhere on a twisted paw. Rest here for a while and we’ll see how you feel. I’ll bring you food and water.” Lady peeked around the yard to see if her owners were home yet. “Just don’t let our humans see you — they won’t want a strange dog in the yard.”</p><p>“Am I really a stranger when we’re so well acquainted?”</p><p>She giggled again in spite of herself. “Don’t move, alright? Just rest.”</p><p>When Lady had gone back in the house and left him alone, a huge smile spread across Buster’s face. He couldn’t believe he’d gone from sleeping in the junkyard to sleeping in this beautiful dog’s backyard in a single day. And wasn’t she beautiful?</p><p>She’d been nice to him. No one had ever been that unabashedly kind, that concerned with his welfare… not since he and The Tramp had been together. Buster should’ve known not to give his heart away so quickly again, not after it’d been broken before.</p><p>But no one had ever accused Buster of being smart.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Catch the Train</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’d run as far as they could, as fast as they could, for as long as they could but it just wasn’t enough. Their search had led them down a few streets, then Trusty’s nose would lose the trail. Just as they’d be about to give up, his sniffer would start going again.</p><p>Tramp and Trusty had gone on like this for hours and come up with nothing. They might’ve gotten far, but Scamp was younger, faster, and had surely gotten farther.</p><p>“How are we supposed to find him now?” Tramp grieved. “It’s hopeless.”</p><p>“Don’t give up yet, sonny,” dependable Trusty said. “We found him before and we can do it again. He’s only gone when we give up.”</p><p>“I admire your attitude.” Tramp slumped to the ground of what seemed like the hundredth alley they’d sun through in their search. He was deeply grateful to the old hound for braving the streets again, like he’d done on the Fourth of July with them.</p><p>“But let’s face it — I’m not as young as I used to be, and neither are you. Scamp has outlasted us.” Mud and water splashed on his matted fur as he lay there, cold ground beneath him. Tramp gave a sigh of defeat.</p><p>“My nose has never failed me before, and it won’t start today.”</p><p>“Trusty, pal… you’re even older than me. Your nose is useless.”</p><p>The brown Bloodhound’s ears drooped, head bowed. Hound dogs always looked like they’d just received bad news, but now Trusty’s morale matched his countenance. He stared at Tramp with mournful eyes. The old dog turned around and walked away, leaving Tramp in the alley. “I wish you luck, my friend. You know where to find me if you want to keep searching.” The Bloodhound trudged out of the alleyway, heading home.</p><p>Tramp felt horribly guilty, but he knew their search was futile. No sense in keeping poor old Trusty out longer than he needed to be. Tramp didn’t want to give up, but he was out of ideas, out of leads to where Scamp might be going.</p><p>Then a new idea made him lift his head and get to his feet.</p><p>His wayward son had run off after Angel and Peg, who were planning to leave town for good. So instead of thinking where Scamp could possibly be, maybe he could find him by thinking of where Angel and Peg would be. If he found them, he found Scamp.</p><p>“If I wanted to get out of town as quickly as possible, how would I do it?”</p><p>He racked his brain for all the possible routes they might take — they could walk one of the roads, they could disappear into the woods, they could even hop a ferry boat and ride down the river — but none of those were the fastest way. There was only one place where Peggy could hitch a ride and be a thousand miles away by nightfall.</p><p>In his gut, he knew he was right. He knew where Peg was going.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“How did you sleep, sweetheart?” Peg asked, gently prodding her daughter.</p><p>Angel yawned and stretched her legs. The familiar dirt and gravel of the town’s streets beneath her, as opposed to carpet or cushion, was surprisingly welcome to her. Angel realized that out in town once more, tasting freedom on her tongue, she had a peace of mind she’d lacked for a long while. “I feel great, Mom, I really do. I’m glad I’m going with you.”</p><p>“I’m glad, too,” Peg laughed, but it sounded hollow. She eyed her young girl with trepidation. “But baby… you sure you’re not just fooling yourself about this?”</p><p>“Of course I’m sure, Momma. I’ve thought it over, and I want to go.”</p><p>“Alright, sweetie,” she beamed, “then you and me have a train to catch.”</p><p>“A train?” Angel asked. “That’s how we’re leaving town?”</p><p>“Fastest way to go the farthest. Let’s hustle.”</p><p>The dusty, cream-colored mother and daughter had given themselves a few hours rest after meeting up at the carousel in the park the night before. There was always an alleyway comfortably out of sight if one only looked for it, and it’d made a safe sleeping spot. Now Peg led Angel further down the street, through another alley, and around the other side of a wooden ticket office where early travelers already stood in line.</p><p>And there it was: the town trainyard. Black puffs of smoke chugged and churned into the air from the exhaust pipe atop a steel-rimmed train that slowed to a stop in the yard. Train tracks ran everywhere along the ground, and a platform stood for people to board the twelve o’clock. Several rusty locomotives were parked on rails all over the yard.</p><p>It was dirty, grimy even, but the place had a magical quality about it, all that movement and modernization in the air. The idea of traveling from one part of the country to the next in a matter of hours — or cross-country in just days — seemed out of this world to a small dog like her. Angel followed her mother across the gravel, grinning ear to ear.</p><p>“That cargo train over there will leave any minute now. I asked the local strays, and they say that one goes out west.” Peg nodded to a large train, several carts long and carrying loads of boxes, barrels, and bucketloads of commercial goods. “Can you imagine the west, that open air? I can already taste the oats and cornmeal. We’ll finally have our freedom, hon.”</p><p>Workers in dirty overalls were already shoveling coal into the engine, and smoke was billowing from the top chute. Peg smiled at the sight. “Time to board.”</p><p>She led her daughter down to one of the train’s open cargo compartments. It was a high jump to the ledge and inside, but Angel figured they could get into it by leaping onto the lower steel railing first. She gave her mother a boost onto the railing, for Peg was older and couldn’t jump as easily as Angel could. Peg leapt from her daughter’s back onto the railing, then climbed into the cart’s interior. She glanced down at Angel, still on the ground.</p><p>The train’s whistle hissed and bellowed — the train would soon leave — but Angel looked apprehensively at the compartment.</p><p>Peg saw the wheels start to turn. “Get up here before we leave!”</p><p>But just as Angel was about to leap off the ground…</p><p>“Angel! Don’t go, Angel!”</p><p>“Scamp? What are you doing here?” Angel gasped at the sight of him running from the far side of the trainyard. The whistle bellowed again, the wheels turned faster, and the steam locomotive began chugging forward — with Angel still on the ground.</p><p>“Angel, jump up, quick now!” her mother pleaded.</p><p>“Angel, don’t jump, please!” her best friend cried.</p><p>But Scamp was so far away from the train. Angel couldn’t believe he’d tracked her all the way here after she’d ditched him last night — he must’ve spent hours searching for her — but she wouldn’t change her mind. Angel rushed forward and made a great leap, landed on the railings, and pulled herself up into the compartment with her mother.</p><p>Angel stuck her head out as the train steamed ahead. “Just forget about me!”</p><p>“No!” Scamp barked at the top of his lungs. “I — Won’t — Lose — You!” He bolted forward, running faster than he ever had in his life to catch the train chugging away.</p><p>“Tenderfoot! You can’t make it!” They were picking up speed.</p><p>“I — Have — To!” Tears flew from his face as he ran against the wind.</p><p>Scamp had been running nonstop ever since he’d fled his father early that morning. He’d searched all over town to sniff out Angel’s trail, and it led him to the trainyard. They’d nearly been run over by a train together that summer, but they’d broken through the wooden tracks and fallen into the river just in time. It was one of his scariest, and favorite, memories.</p><p>After all they’d been through, he wasn’t about to lose her now.</p><p>“Scamp! Don’t do this for me!” Now Angel’s eyes were tearing up.</p><p>“I — Have — To!” he barked again, panting as he raced the train. He ran and ran, the trainyard becoming a blur, the blur becoming an open field outside the town. Scamp barely noticed dirt and gravel change into dirt as grass as they left their little town behind.</p><p>“Scamp!” Angel shrieked as she realized what he meant to do. “Don’t jump!”</p><p>“You’ll never make it, kid!” Peg cried. To jump now was impossible.</p><p>But he ignored their warnings. “I — Have — To — Prove — ”</p><p>Angel knew that if he jumped, if he tried to make a running leap into their open compartment, he would surely miss and hit the grinding train wheels instead.</p><p>And then he jumped. Her heart froze as she watched him fly through the air, dead certain that he’d fail and hit the merciless wheels below. Time itself slowed down as he leapt.</p><p>Nothing mattered to her but that he make the jump — not leaving town, not finding a home, not even being with her mother. All she wanted was for him to make it.</p><p>“Oh, Scamp!” Angel cried and cried over him.</p><p>His gray body lay on the wooden floor of the compartment with them, his breathing fast and heavy. How he had safely landed, she’d never know. He lifted his head. “Am I dead?”</p><p>“No, you did it! You really did it!” she barked through tears and threw herself beside him. “Tenderfoot, you could’ve been — Why did you do that? What did you have to prove?”</p><p>“I had… to prove that… it’s more than puppy love.”</p><p>Fresh tears fell down her face and caught in her fur, and she couldn’t stop herself sobbing over him, lying at her paws so worn from his effort. After what she’d done to him, what she’d put him through, he had gone and done this for her. All their time together — meeting through his fence, knocking over trash cans in the alley, surviving the train, their night in the park, leaving Buster and the junkyard, being welcomed by her sixth family — all he’d done for her swelled up in her mind’s eye.</p><p>“Oh, Scamp… It’s so much more.” Angel held him close, as if one bump in the tracks would cause him to slip away and roll out the train’s open door.</p><p>When he heard that, he beamed and passed out from exhaustion.</p><p>Angel sniffed back the rest of her tears, lying beside him like nothing else mattered. Her mother gently nudged her. “C’mon, baby, let the poor guy sleep.”</p><p>She reluctantly moved away from him. He was barely breathing at first, so when he started to snore, she gave a huge sigh of relief. “I was fooling myself, Momma, thinking I wanted to leave him. I didn’t know how much he meant to me until… until he almost…”</p><p>“Say no more, honey. I suppose you wanna return home with him?”</p><p>“I… I don’t know. I don’t think so. I want him to come with me.”</p><p>“He may not want that, sweetie. His family is back there.”</p><p>“Yeah, but this train’s moving fast, and we’re already so far away.”</p><p>“We are,” Peg agreed, poking her head out the cargo door. “But we can always jump off at the next town. I bet we could hitch a ride. We could even walk it.”</p><p>Angel honestly couldn’t say whether or not that was what she wanted. She and her mother had been cooped up in that town for so long, feeling they’d never go any farther than the same street corners, the same fancy neighborhoods, and now they were free. She wanted her freedom, but more than that, she wanted Scamp beside her now and forever.</p><p>“No, Momma, we’ve gotta keep moving forward. I don’t know where this train is going, but we’re going there, wherever it is. You, me, and Scamp.”</p><p>She joined her mother in sticking her head out of the moving train, which was frightening and immensely thrilling. They kept a firm footing and were safe. It was amazing to see the grass turn into entire fields of golden corn crop, and beyond that, rolling meadows and lush green forests. There were ponds with algae and pastures with grazing cattle. She couldn’t believe all this was just a few miles out of town, waiting for her all her life.</p><p>Angel looked back the direction they’d come from. She couldn’t even see their town anymore. It wasn’t a dot on the horizon — it was gone completely. Any home that had ever let her down, or that she’d fled before they could, was gone now. She was free.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Tramp didn’t stop running until he’d made it to the trainyard. His legs ached from the labor of muscle and age alike, but as long as he found his son, pain didn’t matter. “Scamp! Where are you?’ he barked, searching the area for a feisty gray puppy who looked nothing like his mother and everything like his father. “Whirlwind!”</p><p>But no feisty gray puppy answered his calls. Just when Tramp thought his hunch was wrong, that Peggy hadn’t planned to come here at all, his nose caught the scent.</p><p>“He was here… They were all here.” He’d been right after all. He’d thought of the fastest way that Peg could get out of town, and the answer was a train.</p><p>The mutt quickly followed the trail and did a double-take when he saw tiny paw prints in the dirt, spread apart like he’d been running. Of course he’d been running. Tramp broke into a run himself and followed his son’s scent and tracks to the heart of the train yard, where he found two more sets of prints belonging to the runaway mother and daughter.</p><p>All three disappeared at the edge of the train tracks.</p><p>“Oh, no… They’ve already left.” Horror spread over his face. Tramp could see it all by the scents and prints — the entire story unfolded. Peg and Angel must’ve boarded first, for their prints vanished first. Scamp’s trail led further down the track, which meant he chased after the train. The tracks went so far ahead they actually left town.</p><p>His son had run a marathon to catch the train, but the question was, did he make it? Was he able to jump on board with Peg and Angel, or was his boy sleeping in the grassy prairies beyond town somewhere? Or worse, had he tried to jump on board but met wheels instead?</p><p>That possibility was too terrible to contemplate, but Tramp couldn’t rule it out. In panic and despair, he raced out of the trainyard alongside his son’s tracks. He could imagine the train picking up steam, plowing ahead, and his poor boy sprinting beside it.</p><p>Tramp followed the trail for what felt like a mile before he realized the paw prints had disappeared. Yes, at the edge of the railroad, his son had taken a mighty leap… and he didn’t see a body anywhere. “He made the jump! Oh, thank heavens.”</p><p>The father was elated that his son hadn’t died on the tracks, but after the joy wore off, a terrible new conclusion sunk in — they were gone. Scamp was gone.</p><p>“If I hadn’t been so slow… If I’d gotten here before you…” He sunk to the ground in defeat, eyes shut tight, heart beating wildly. He’d promised Lady, and he’d failed. By now the train was miles away from town, taking their son farther and farther away.</p><p>Tramp began the long march back to the trainyard. He was sore beyond belief, and when he finally re-entered town, all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. If he slept, he could forget all this was really happening for a short, sweet time.</p><p>He knew the trainyard well, as it happened. He used to come here often when he lived on the streets, and soon enough Tramp had tracked down an overturned wooden barrel on the other side of the tracks, beneath the abandoned control tower. It’d been a comfy bed for a stray. Back then he’d been THE Tramp and it was a title of honor, not just a name, not just Tramp.</p><p>The Tramp would’ve never let his son escape him, and if he had, The Tramp would’ve tracked him down in an instant. He’d gone soft and slow living as a house pet.</p><p>It sure felt nice to crawl back into his barrel for a lie down. He would return home and tell Lady that he’d failed, but Tramp thought surely he could be forgiven for wanting to delay that a little while. For wanting to nap in his barrel and remember the good old days.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Scamp had finally come around several hours after the train had left town that morning. It was now evening time, and the sun shone a brilliant red-gold over the meadows and valleys they passed. After his strenuous run, he’d woken up starving.</p><p>Luckily for him, Peg had chosen this compartment for a reason: there were crates of salted beef, chicken breasts, and pork cutlets being transported to the next town. The dogs found a crate that wasn’t secured well, and with a bit of effort, they retrieved their prizes. Peg, Angel, and Scamp all had a nice meal on the shaky wooden floor of the train cart. Though he’d only just met her mother, he knew Angel, and they felt like a proper family together.</p><p>“Isn’t this exciting, Tenderfoot?” Angel nearly squealed with glee. It was dangerously delightful to be a stowaway, sneaking a free train ride and stealing their dinner. She gulped down her pork and returned to the open door. “And isn’t it beautiful?”</p><p>The American Midwest passed before their eyes, a countryside blur of patchwork fields and trees that would soon change colors, from green and gold to red and orange. She had never seen so many cows in her life, or so much corn, for that matter. There were rows and rows of corn, the ears as tall as a grown man, maybe taller. It was wild to think that all this was theirs, that this lush landscape was their new playground.</p><p>“You’re coming with us, aren’t you, Scamp?” Angel asked eagerly. “Mom and I are gonna find a farm out here where we can live off rats and oats and vegetables. You have to come with us. We’ll have a great life together.”</p><p>“Angel, I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”</p><p>“Why not?” she threw back. “We’re already so far from town.”</p><p>“I’d love to live free out here, Angel, I really would,” he explained with a sigh, “but I can’t leave my family. I learned my lesson on the Fourth of July.”</p><p>She crept next to him, brushing their fur coats together. She made sure he was smiling when she nodded to the vast countryside they passed. The evening sun bathed the land in hazy gold, like something out of a dream. “But just look at it, Tenderfoot. Imagine living collar-free for the rest of our lives. I thought that was what you always wanted.”</p><p>Scamp saw it all laid out before him, just like in his imagination. A world without fences. He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t still yearn for it.</p><p>“I do want that, Angel. I want to live out here with you… but not yet. I’ll miss my family too much if we go now.” He looked away from the landscape with great difficulty. “Come back home with me, and I promise when we’re older, we’ll explore all this together.”</p><p>“I don’t want to wait until we’re older,” Angel protested. “How would you even get home, anyways? It would take days to walk back, and you don’t know the way.”</p><p>“We can find a car or another train going that way. We’ll figure it out.”</p><p>“There is no we, Scamp. I want to be with you, but I don’t wanna return.”</p><p>“Angel, please… my family loves you. They won’t abandon you.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, but I’m not going back now. Not when Mom and I have come this far.” She glanced over at her mother, who was lying in the corner of the compartment. Peg pretended not to be listening. “Oh, Tenderfoot, why won’t you just go with us?”</p><p>“I want to be with my family. They must be worried sick already, and you know what?” Scamp’s voice had a little bark in it now. “They’re your family, too, whether you appreciate them or not. They’re worried about you, too.”</p><p>“I won’t go back. I won’t.” She turned her back to him.</p><p>“Fine. Keep running away forever and see how far that gets you.” Now a definite bark. “I can’t believe you got everything you always wanted and threw it away.”</p><p>“You don’t know what I want for my life.”</p><p>“I don’t think you do either.”</p><p>It didn’t escape him that when he and Angel had argued for the first time, it’d been because Scamp refused to leave the junkyard and return to the family that loved him, and here he was now trying to convince her of the same sentiment. He wondered if the irony of the reversal had occurred to her as well.</p><p>Scamp knew there was no use arguing any further, so he marched to the other side of the compartment and sat beside the crates of meat. Angel went sit with her mom. The two best friends didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the evening.</p><p>“Is he right? Am I just running forever?” Angel whispered to her mother.</p><p>Peg nuzzled her affectionately. “If you are, then I guess I am, too.”</p><p>“It’s not wrong of us to want something different out of life.”</p><p>“Course not. That ain’t what he means.” Peg looked across the cart at Scamp, who was chewing on a chicken leg and decidedly not looking at them. “He only wants you to be happy, and he’s afraid you won’t be out here. Not in the long run.”</p><p>“Well, maybe Scamp doesn’t know what will make me happy.”</p><p>“I know what did,” Peg chuckled, giving her daughter a knowing smile. “Seeing him land in the train safe and sound, that made you happy. Him doing that for ya.”</p><p>Angel sighed bleakly, staring at him across the compartment. He’d eaten the meat off the chicken leg and was now chewing on the bone, but soon enough he yawned wide and curled up to sleep for the night. Outside, the sun was setting on the country’s endless horizon.</p><p>“Sweetheart, life’s much too short to be mad at your best friend.”</p><p>“I’m not mad,” Angel said, yawning herself, “but I won’t tell him till morning.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dogs Playing Poker</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning air was cool and crisp, and while it was sure to heat up by midday, there was no denying summer was winding down and fall would be with them soon. The trees would shed their foliage and prance naked in the park. The water would run colder in the stream. Everywhere, people’s smiles would turn remiscient for warmer days gone by.</p><p>Buster awoke that morning with a yawn like a lion opening his jaws. He stretched his legs, raised his back, and — BAM! He’d hit his head on the ceiling of the doghouse. “Oww…” he grumbled, head throbbing. “I hate roofs.”</p><p>In addition to his aching head, he found his twisted back paw still hurt, though not quite as much as yesterday. The Rotterman’s stomach rumbled for food and lips parched for water. He stepped outside and squished his paws in the grass. “I hate dew.”</p><p>He looked for the humans but saw none, smelled none, so Buster gingerly stepped outside the doghouse and began sniffing the perfectly manicured lawn. “I hate flowers.”</p><p>When one slept on the hard dirt, or inside a bathtub, or inside a rubber tire, there was no wrong side of the bed to wake up on. Buster’s aches and groans all vanished when he heard a dog collar jingle. His heart flipped at the sight of a brown Cocker Spaniel trotting over with a bowl of dog food in her mouth. “But I don’t... hate... you.”</p><p>She set the food before him, brightening to see his black-and-brown face. He shoved his nose in the bowl and gobbled it up. “Eat your food a little slower!” she giggled.</p><p>“Sorry,” he laughed, “I ain’t a polite puppy.” He belched for effect.</p><p>“You shouldn’t talk with food in your mouth. It’s completely gross.”</p><p>“Ooh, prissy missy!” he chuckled. “Such a proper lady.”</p><p>She laughed again, restoring his good mood all the more, but it was the kind of laugh that trailed off and seemed half-hearted and tearful at the end, if one listened closely. Buster wasn’t much good at articulating, but he could hear just fine. “Hey, hey, why so blue?”</p><p>“Bad night, I suppose,” she sighed. “It was the second night I slept alone. I haven’t slept alone for so long, and I… I was used to it. Does that sound silly?”</p><p>“That don’t sound silly at all.”</p><p>See, a Doberman-Rottweiler mix like himself was a protective dog by nature, and when he decided a girl was His Girl, then you better believe that Buster was going to do everything he could to keep her safe. Because he knew what was best for her. The trouble was that he rarely stopped to ask His Girl what she wanted him to do, which was why Angel Cakes was always mad at him. Buster was many things, but a team player was not one of them.</p><p>He knew what Lady needed, and when he was sure of himself, he never doubted. “Let’s get outta this yard, right now. C’mon, how long ya been cooped up here?”</p><p>“Get out? Oh, I couldn’t possibly.” Lady blushed. “My owners won’t — ”</p><p>“ — won’t even know ya were gone. We’ll get ya home in one piece.”</p><p>The Cocker Spaniel smiled with that youthful mischievousness that adults too often don’t remember. “I suppose we could go for a stroll, if it won’t hurt your paw.”</p><p>“My paw’s never felt better. Let’s be free.”</p><p>Lady made him promise that they would only be gone for an hour or two, that they'd only stretch their legs around the block. She went inside the house to tell Annie, Collie, and Dannie that she was going out for a little while with her friend Mister Buster, and that they were to be well-behaved little ladies while she was gone. She didn't doubt the first two but made Danielle swear on her favorite toy, a sock monkey, that she wouldn’t act up.</p><p>They walked slowly, for Buster was still limping on his back paw. Lady’s heart was all aflutter at the front gate, but the grin on Buster’s handsome face dragged her through it.</p><p>“Geez, ya never go out for fun, do ya?” Buster chuckled.</p><p>“No, never.” Lady was practically tiptoeing down the sidewalk. “I’m their good little Lady. I don’t dig flowers or break dishes or sneak out of the yard.”</p><p>“Oh, well, we gotta break that perfect record.”</p><p>He led her into an alleyway behind a diner her owners sometimes visited. There were crates of food deliveries, boxes of spare pots and pans, and best of all, trash cans. Tin trash cans. Buster nodded to them. “Kick one of them over.”</p><p>“What? No, that’s juvenile, there’s no reason — ”</p><p>“Ya wanna be their good little Lady forever? Break tha rules. Kick it.”</p><p>Lady knocked the can over with her rear legs, and to her surprise, found it deeply gratifying. Buster laughed and knocked the rest of them over, barking wildly, until the diner owners ran out swinging a frying pan and the two dogs had to make haste. They caught their breath a few blocks down in front of a clothing shop.</p><p>“Not such a prissy missy now, are ya?” They laughed warmly together.</p><p>Then her face sombered. “It was fun… It reminds me of how Tramp used to be.”</p><p>Buster looked like he was working out a puzzle. “Yesterday ya said Tha Tramp wasn’t here. Now ya bring him up and look like Grandma just died. What’s going on?”</p><p>“I… I don’t know, honestly. Not long before you showed up in our yard, Tramp and I had a fight and he… ran off. I don’t know why exactly, and I don’t know what to think anymore.” A tear trickled down her cheek fur, but she resolved to tell him.</p><p>They left the shop window and crossed the street, settling down in a little shady spot off the sidewalk with benches and trees changing colors. A place for couples to sit and talk a while. Lady retraced the events of the past two days. “Ever since Tramp moved in, I’ve never doubted him. I knew he had a colorful past, but he insisted he left it all behind. Well, I doubt him now. One of his old girlfriends came to our yard, a pound dog named Peg.”</p><p>“Peggy? Yeah, I know her. Lotta guys know her.” Buster realized this may not have been the right thing to say. “Pretty sure she’s Angel Cakes’s mother.”</p><p>“That’s why she came, to see her daughter… but maybe to see Tramp, too.” Her fluffy ears drooped sadly. “She asked Angel to leave town with her, and now it seems she did, but both Scamp and his father left the house that night as well. So yesterday morning, Tramp came running back to say that our boy ran off to try to bring Angel back.”</p><p>“Scampo ran off again? Oh man.”</p><p>“I know, I’m so worried… but the worst part is, when Tramp showed up, I — I could smell Peg on him. I accused him of seeing her, and he tried to lie about it. Now Tramp’s gone again. He said he’s going to find Scamp, to bring him home, but that was yesterday and neither of them are back yet, so I… I just don’t know.”</p><p>“That’s a lot to take in. It kinda sounds like — ”</p><p>“ — like Tramp ran away with Peg and they took Angel and Scamp with them. I keep thinking they all left town together and now they’re one big, happy family.”</p><p>Now that the words had been said, they couldn’t be taken back. The idea had been birthed. Lady knew how silly she sounded, making up an accusation with little proof, but Tramp was gone and he’d had Peg’s scent on him. What else was she supposed to think? </p><p>“Peg and Tha Tramp do have history… She was one of his favorite girls.”</p><p>This caused Lady to burst into fresh tears. “Then it’s true! He and Peg are long gone by now, and Scamp with them, and I’ll — I’ll never see my son again!”</p><p>Listening to her sobs made Buster’s hardened heart break in two. “Hey, now... Ya don’t know that for sure.” He had no idea if what she believed was true or not, but he did know that when The Tramp loved someone, he never quite gave them his whole heart. There was always a tiny corner that he kept to himself, a piece that longed for open air and excitement, for a collar-free life. How much sway could that one hidden piece of his heart have?</p><p>“I gotta tell ya something, but ya can’t laugh.”</p><p>She stopped crying to gently nod. “Of course not.”</p><p>“Tha Tramp broke my heart, too.”</p><p>Every nerve in his body protested telling her this — it was like rolling over and exposing his stomach — but it was what she needed to hear. She had to know he understood.</p><p>“We met in tha junkyard when we were pups. Grew up together, told each other everything. We got in trouble all tha time, but Tha Tramp, y’know, always got out of it somehow. I wasn’t so lucky.” Buster felt a tremble in his throat. “This one time I got thrown in tha pound for something he did, and he… he snuck in and saved me.”</p><p>“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Lady asked quietly.</p><p>“It’s impossible not to. But ya already know that.”</p><p>She pressed her head against him, and he felt her. “I do know.”</p><p>“He was so happy all tha time. He just loved life.” The memories stung like hornets, but no matter how much they hurt, Buster never wanted to forget them. “I mean, he always had a girlfriend, tha ladies couldn’t resist him. But every time, he came back to me. I was his only guy, so I felt special. Like none of tha others counted.”</p><p>He couldn’t look at her for the next part. “Then he met ya. I couldn’t believe it when he told me. I was so angry — he ditched me. Ditched tha junkyard. Ditched tha collar-free life, and for what? Some snobby rich girl.”</p><p>“Oh, Buster, I… I never realized…”</p><p>“But everything changed when I met ya yesterday.”</p><p>The Rotterman and Spaniel held tight to each other, hearts aching in tune. Sitting under a bench in that shaded spot, no one bothered them, and they stayed some time observing passersby. They made up stories about who they were and why they were in such a hurry. Many street dogs spent their days people-watching. It was a blessed distraction from danger and hunger.</p><p>Street life was a game of poker that all the dogs played. They held their cards close to their chests and never showed their true emotions. If they did, someone could take advantage and they could lose everything. Play it right and they could win the jackpot.</p><p>They played with their hearts on the line, and too often, they gambled them away.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>When he woke up in his familiar trainyard barrel, Tramp was shocked to realize he’d slept through the evening, all night, and into the next morning. It used to be that he’d yawn, stretch his limbs, get a drink of water, and praise the sunny sky.</p><p>Now, he didn’t have the heart. Tramp knew why he’d rested so long in his barrel, why he hadn’t felt worthy of returning home to his family yet — he had failed them.</p><p>Tramp had run so far and so fast yesterday, all to catch his runaway son before he left town forever on a steam train, and he’d been too late. “I’m sorry, Whirlwind. Guess you just outpaced your old man.” He was both impressed and dismayed.</p><p>He stumbled through grimy streets, puddle water splashing his fur and gravel stinging his sore paws. He was so dank that if it weren’t for the crimson collar and license he wore, no one would’ve guessed he was a house dog. Tramp barely noticed the town’s bumbling dogcatcher driving towards him in his dinky vehicle, ready to throw him in the pound. True, his collar meant he’d be picked up by the Darlings, but every last dogcatcher had a personal grudge against him. He darted through an alley, then another, and lost him in the blink of an eye.</p><p>“See that, son? Still got it,” Tramp whispered to the puddles.</p><p>He’d already been away from home too long, so the Schnauzer mutt set his course for Snob Hill and the home of Jim Dear, Darling, and most importantly, his partner and pups. But curiously, when Tramp was passing by a casual diner that his humans sometimes visited, he caught a scent by the trash bins. “Lady? Why’s she out here?”</p><p>His nose might not have been as good as Trusty’s, but it worked well enough to track her smell through the town streets and sidewalks. He would’ve thought that the Darlings’ had taken her for a walk, but he couldn’t smell their owners accompanying her.</p><p>There was a scent with her, but it was another dog. A male, and not Jock or Trusty. Tramp swore he recognized the smell but couldn’t say who it belonged to.</p><p>He followed the strange pair, worried Lady was in trouble. He went up and down the sidewalk, passing shops where it seemed they’d lingered, then he found a secluded spot by park benches where they smelled strongly. “Where’d you go, Pidge?”</p><p>Tramp put his nose to the ground and tracked them halfway across town, finally coming to a spot he knew too well, a place where he’d spent carefree days as a younger dog — the junkyard. He saw two pairs of pawprints in the mud, disappearing into a drainage pipe.</p><p>The junkyard reminded him who the male scent belonged to.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>There was a hiddenness to the junkyard that made any dogs who played there feel they'd escaped the wider world. They could shred and dig and mess and play and love without any human scolding. It was a feeling Buster loved, one he’d never been able to let go of. And it was a feeling he was eager for his Lady to experience.</p><p>Buster threw her musty old pillows and ugly curtains and told her to rip them up. She protested, of course, but with a little wheedling he soon had her tearing and shredding like a puppy. She laughed so carefree, so wildly, it made his heart jump.</p><p>“I know we just met yesterday,” the Rotterman chuckled, watching her destroy a frilly dress, “but honestly, I gotta tell ya — ” The words caught in his chest.</p><p>“Oh, Buster, I think I know.” Lady looked frightfully nervous, but she was smiling. She’d been thinking of what to say for a while. “And I’m just… I’m…”</p><p>“Pidge!” a familiar voice cried. “Why are you with him?”</p><p>He stood proud atop a pile of trash, like it was still his kingdom. Like he’d never left at all. Tramp descended with his head held high, and the sheer audacity of it — the nerve to set one paw back here, where they’d made so many memories that he’d so gleefully tossed away — that made Buster’s blood boil. His haunches tensed, ready to pounce.</p><p>Lady, Tramp, and Buster stood in a triangle in that junkyard clearing. Three dogs sat at the table, cards out, chips thrown in and the deck stacked. The game began.</p><p>“You came back,” she said, her voice neither warm nor cold. She couldn’t give away her feelings in the first round. “But where’s Scamp? Where’s my son?”</p><p>“Whoa, calm down!” Tramp’s voice went much louder than hers. He looked between her and his former friend. “You wanna tell me what exactly’s going on here?”</p><p>“Buster is with me because  — ”</p><p>“ — because he’s being a good friend to Lady here, who’s real upset that ya ditched her.” The Dober-Rott wasn’t about to stay on the sidelines. He inched closer to her. “She and I both know what that feels like…” He bared his fangs. “...old buddy.”</p><p>“Pidge! You know Buster’s just a no-good — ”</p><p>“Stop calling me Pidgeon. I’m not some birdbrained girl anymore,” she barked. “And I’ll have you know Buster’s been very kind to me. He’s someone I can talk to, tell how I’m feeling, and he — he listens to me. He makes me feel better.”</p><p>Buster nodded eagerly. “Don’t be jealous cause ya never been there for her.”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I’ve been there for her.”</p><p>Tramp exchanged a long glance with his partner — his current, not his former — and hoped she saw the sorrow, the confusion, and the disappointment in his eyes. He’d lost his temper with her in their yard yesterday. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.</p><p>“Listen, sweetheart. This isn’t important right now.” Tramp took a deep breath. Now his eyes bore embarrassment, too. “Our son is gone. Scamp left town on a train with Angel and Peg. I tried to get to the trainyard in time, I really tried, but I… I was too late.”</p><p>“Scamp is… gone? Just gone?” Lady choked out, eyes watery.</p><p>“I know I promised to bring him back. I’m so sorry.”</p><p>The parents couldn’t even meet each other’s gaze, and the sorrow hung heavy in the air. He wanted to move closer to her, but that would’ve exposed his hand. You never showed your cards in poker. She kept hers close to her chest and moved closer to Buster. “What am I going to do? My son may be lost forever. This is awful.”</p><p>“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Cry if ya need to.” The Dober-Rott’s voice was so sweet it made Tramp sick. “But ya gotta be strong. Falling to pieces won’t help anything.”</p><p>When Buster wrapped his paw around her, Tramp went livid. “Get away from her! And don’t pretend you care about Scamp. We all know how you treated him.”</p><p>“Ya don’t know who I care about!” Buster growled. “I liked tha little guy.”</p><p>“Come to think of it, Tramp, I wonder who you care about,” she said, picking up on the play. “Do you love me and our family? Or do you love Peg and your glory days?”</p><p>Turned out she’d had an ace up her sleeve.</p><p>He didn’t know if he was more stunned at the fact that Lady, his lovely Lady, had accused him of such disloyalty… or the fact that it made him pause and second-guess himself. Tramp felt like his paws were sinking in quicksand, and the more he wriggled and fought, the faster he was buried. But when an animal was caught in a bind, panic was the common response.</p><p>“Peg and I only talked that night,” His heart raced with regret, but worse, with profound injustice. It blinded him. “I’ve told you over and over. But y’know what I don’t get? I don’t get how you can accuse me of seeing Peg when you’ve been getting all snug with Buster!”</p><p>“Jealous, are we?” his former friend sneered.</p><p>“What do you mean, all snug with Buster? You don’t think I’d ever — I have some decency!” she protested. “He’s been a good friend to me when I needed one most.”</p><p>“Don’t be so gullible. Can’t you see Buster’s using you to get back at me?”</p><p>“Ya really think everything is about ya?” Buster cut in, standing between the quarrelling lovers, though he couldn’t say if he intended to defend Lady or confront Tramp. Both, in all honesty. Buster had no problem staring down his old buddy. “I ain’t using her for revenge. I don’t care about getting revenge anymore. Meeting Lady is tha best thing that ever happened to me, and it ain’t got nothing to do with ya.”</p><p>“You think you’re the most important dog in the world,” his Lady threw at him, and it landed like a rock from an angry store owner. “You are so self-centered.”</p><p>Tramp’s heart sank in his chest. He wasn’t the kind of dog who cried, and not for some masculine facade or emotional barricade. He didn’t cry because he’d seen so many awful things on the streets that it just didn’t faze him anymore. But hearing those words from her lips, his jaw quivered, and his mind replayed scenes of him stealing from rival dogs — stealing from butchers and sandwich shops and dining families — and going hungry to give his food away to two young puppies in the park. Pups who needed it more. And yet.</p><p>He wished someone had thrown a real rock at him. He hung his head, his throat felt tight and gurgly, and tears escaped his eyes and wet his fur. As quietly as he could.</p><p>“Well, why don’t I just go then?” he huffed. “I don’t think I’m much needed anymore, now that you’ve got your good friend.”</p><p>“I think that’s a great idea. Go on, leave us in peace!”</p><p>“Oh, Buster buddy. You know you’d be nothing without me.”</p><p>That declaration rang like a church bell, and Buster’s mouth dropped open helplessly. He bared his teeth and growled again, but he made no attack. The instant he did, he’d have to throw his cards away and forfeit. But the game was over regardless.</p><p>The mutt said nothing, only glared at them, but he kicked his leg up to his red collar like he was scratching behind his ear. He wedged his paw between his neck and collar, he pushed and pulled his head, and finally the shackles came loose. He threw his collar at Buster’s paws.</p><p>“Here. You’ll need this, seeing as you’re a house doggy now.”</p><p>“How dare ya call me a — ”</p><p>“And Lady… don’t call me Tramp. I’m THE Tramp, got it?”</p><p>“But you can’t be… you can’t really…”</p><p>He rounded on her, and all of the couple’s strongest emotions — love in the park, warmth by the fireplace, joy for their family — were volatile and boiled into something ugly, something angry. “Do you have any idea how much I sacrificed to be with you? I had freedom. I had adventures on these streets. I was the best street dog this town has ever known!”</p><p>“Then go, if — if you miss your old life so much,” she gulped. “Just go.”</p><p>He turned away from her and walked off through the junkyard, footloose, collar-free. Part of him hoped Lady would run over to him, beg him to stay, but she didn’t. So he looked back one last time, anger replaced by weariness. “Take care of our girls. I’ll visit now and then.”</p><p>Behind him, Lady’s eyes were full of tears. She looked at Buster and she looked at The Tramp, and both seemed like strangers to her. She was frightened and alone in the junkyard. </p><p>“I didn’t want us to end this way...” She looked at them both. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Then his beautiful Cocker Spaniel, his lovely Lady, fled the junkyard the way she came. She dove through the drain pipe and was gone, racing back to the Darlings’ home.</p><p>To his surprise, Buster didn’t run after her. He had barely moved at all, barely breathed since his old friend had rejected his collar. But now Buster took a hesitant step towards him, and any malice in his eyes had been replaced with somber confusion. The Tramp knew his buddy well enough. He knew Buster wore his heart on his sleeve.</p><p>“What do you have to say now?” he growled. “Want to add insult to injury?”</p><p>“Ya injured me first. Looks to me we’re even. Score is settled.”</p><p>The two dogs weren’t about to trade blows, not with fangs and claws, but you wouldn’t know that by the way their bodies tensed. They both knew every nook and cranny of the junkyard, and when that bad breeze blew, they could hear the faint laughter of younger dogs. A scruffy gray boy and a burly black-and-brown who’d escaped the world together, who didn’t need the company of humans. Who’d be the greatest street dogs that had ever lived. The Tramp could still see them playing on the piles, a memory of strays.</p><p>“I did hurt you…” The Tramp whispered, “... didn’t I?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Buster muttered.</p><p>“Can I do anything to make it right?”</p><p>“Nope.” And that was that.</p><p>Then it was The Tramp’s turn to leave him again, alone in the scrapyard. He ran away from him, guilt and longing beating at him as he jumped over rubber tires and climbed trash mountains until he was able to jump the wooden fence and leave the dump for good. The Tramp hated Buster for what he’d done, and at the same time, he wanted to cuddle with him, lick his cheek, and make everything right between them. He missed the good old days.</p><p>He couldn’t fool himself any longer. Couldn’t exclude Buster from his memories.</p><p>But this was too painful for The Tramp, and he decided that the best part of being a street dog was that he didn’t have to think of anything. Whatever he wanted to do, he would do, no second-guessing or guilty thoughts. The Tramp didn’t want to think of anything at all.</p><p>And still, he couldn’t shake the thought that they’d all sat down for a game of poker, and somehow they’d all lost.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Bella Notte Ancora</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Although none of the passengers in the meat car of that cargo train could read a watch, they knew night and day, dawn and dusk, and they knew the moon and sun’s eternal dance aged everything beneath them. The bullfrogs croaked and the nightingales sang, and the silvery moon graced all with her beauty. It was night in the Pennsylvania countryside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three dogs in that rickety compartment were all awake, finding it hard to sleep on a moving train. Scamp hadn’t moved from his corner, and he hadn’t spoken to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peg looked between him and her daughter, and she shook her head. In a low whisper, “Baby, tell me… what do you want? More than anything in the world?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanna be with you. I wanna find a farm and — ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, honey. Not what I want to hear. What you want, deep down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Angel was quiet. She turned her mother's question over and over in her head, then, “...I want a family. A home. One that won't let me down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's right, baby. Ya always have. So why not give Scamp's family another chance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I've trusted humans before, and they always disappoint me. But you, me, and Scamp, we'll be a real family out here. We can make a home for ourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Scamp's home is miles away, honey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel knew they were at a crossroads, but not on the train tracks. Quietly, hesitantly, she approached the grey pup who wouldn't be a pup much longer. “Tenderfoot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was determinedly not looking at her. Instead his eyes were on the blurred fields of yellow, orange, and green disappearing into darkness. “It's okay, Angel. Honestly, it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Scamp, I… I wish…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom and Dad tried to tell me that I can't tell you what to do. Or decide where you go,” he explained. “I was too stubborn to listen, but they were right. I have no say in your life. You want to be with your mom, and I want to go home to mine. That's best for both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Scamp, I want you to — ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want you to be happy. If leaving with your mom is what you want, then you should do that.” He smiled at her, but his eyes betrayed his heartache. “I want us to be together forever, but what really matters is what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel tried to hide her tears. “Are you going back to town, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re my family,” Scamp said firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suddenly moved to the edge of the train compartment, ready to jump off, and her heart skipped a beat. She suddenly burst out, “Please don’t go, Scamp! I love you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Angel. That’s why I have to let you be happy… I hope you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a farewell smile, Scamp leapt out of the open meat car and tumbled to the grassy field below. He rolled a little, hitting a few rocks but mostly soft dirt, and came to a stop. His head was spinning, but Scamp pulled himself together enough to see the train chugging, chugging away.. He swore to never forget Angel and the wonderful times they’d shared — jumping on trash bins, fireflies in the park, spaghetti at Tony’s — and he wished her well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he’d started the long walk back to his town, which would take days for sure, he heard a voice call his name from the distance. “Scamp! Scamp!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart soared. He turned and saw Angel and Peg several fields over, their light fur standing out in the dark. He barked happily as he bolted through the meadow towards them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel! Angel!” The young dogs ran and ran and ran right into each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You dummy! Don’t you know not to jump off a moving train?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Angel, you’re here! You’re both here! You’re… You’re not leaving?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not without you.” She rubbed her head against his. “Y’see, Momma asked me what I really wanted deep down, and I told her a family. One that won’t let me down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ll let the Darlings be your family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not them. You.” She licked his cheek tenderly. “You’re my family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel and Scamp embraced in that cool meadow under the cover of night for a blissful eternity, never happier, never to part again. He knew that she was so much more than a girl he’d only known for one summer. What they had was so much more than puppy love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked a little ways through the grass, the young dogs and the old. Nighttime was scary, since one never knew what was hiding behind the black veil, but tonight was bright. There was a full moon above them, shining light on all from the cow pasture to the pond. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scamp nodded for them to follow him. He remembered seeing a country road not too far back, and a short walk proved him right. “This leads back to town. It ran along the tracks for a while.” His face fell. “It’s going to take us a week to walk back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s not worry about that tonight,” Angel interjected. She beckoned him back into the meadow. “Let’s spend one night enjoying the country. It’s so pretty here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Scamp, Angel, and Peg ran free through fields of weeds and wildflowers, breathing the fresh air. They made friends with some cows and were shocked to learn not all of them were black-and-white. They explored the pond and chased frogs through the marsh but lost them in a thicket of cattails, which looked like fat brown sausages stuck on stems. Angel dared Scamp to eat one, just to see if they were really a plant at all, and laughed when he spat it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They found a perfect den beneath a creeping hill, a halfway-burrow that would shelter them for the night. Peg said she’d stay and stake out their spot, just in case any other animals got the same idea. Scamp and Angel promised not to go too far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now they were in a meadow enclosed by bushes and trees. They closed their eyes and listened to the nightingale’s sweet melody and the crickets chirping in the grass. Frogs could still be heard croaking, hopping, calling to their mates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Tenderfoot?” Angel rested her head on his chest. “Do you feel free?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sure do.”  He loved it more than he could ever say. “A world without fences.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, laying in that enclosed meadow with His Girl, his best friend, he began to imagine the life that Angel and Peg desired. He thought about the beauty around them, the serenity of the countryside. He imagined endless adventures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the night sky, the luminous moon was surrounded by ten thousand stars twinkling silver, blue, and white against the black backdrop. In their town, street lamps and bright windows made it hard to appreciate the heavens, but out here it was a different story. There were ancient constellations, maybe even a distant planet, and the old North Star to guide them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a beautiful night,” Angel whispered to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bella notte,” Scamp whispered back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought of spending another night alone in Jim and Darling’s house was too much. Her puppies hadn’t slept next to her since they were little and they now took to a separate room. It was always her and Tramp in the den together, but now, just her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady had snuck out the back door and gone into the yard, and while the hour was late, the full moon overhead and the lamps on the street corners made it easy to see. She crept into the doghouse and made herself comfortable. She used to hate the doghouse, but it now had a familiar musky smell that soothed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was where she had hidden the crimson collar that used to belong to her partner. Lady knew that if the Darlings found it, they’d know something had happened to Tramp, and she couldn’t bear the thought of distressing them. To the back of the doghouse it went.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly her nose alerted her to the musky smell she loved, but stronger, fresher, coming from outside. “Lady! Hey, Lady!” She emerged with a great big smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Buster, I’m so glad to see you.” Lady happily went to his side. “I was afraid after what happened in the junkyard today, after you didn’t come back, that you had — ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ — forgotten ya? No way, beautiful. I just needed to think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking, too. About you and me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So have I.” They touched noses. “Ya so beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked away, hoping the night would hide how flustered she was, but between the full moon and the street lamps it was easy for him to see. Usually when Buster flattered someone, it gave him a sort of thrill to know he’d shaken them, but Buster didn’t get any self-serving thrill this time. He felt shameful for embarrassing her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey… Don’t lemme be pushy. I know what ya going through.” Buster couldn’t stop his tail from wagging though, and soon his eyes were wagging too. “But I’d also never pass up tha chance to take a beautiful lady such as yaself out on tha town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sneak out? I shouldn’t… What about my girls? What about Jim Dear and Darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have ya ever thought ya worry too much about everyone but Lady?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Cocker Spaniel took one last look at her owners’ home, then to the night sky. It was awfully late, and they wouldn’t wake till morning once Jim had drunk his nightcap and Darling had put Junior to bed. She looked back at Buster with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. “Okay, Mister Buster. It’s a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cheered and ran alongside her, sprinting down the yard and slipping out through the trench under the garden gate that the Darlings always forgot to fill. They dashed down the dirty streets, the same spot where Buster remembered playing keep-the-hat-away-from-the-dogcatcher. That was the day he’d first met Scamp. He had to thank the scrappy guy next time he saw him — if Buster had never met Scamp, then Buster would’ve never met his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha ha! We’ll make a rebel outta ya yet!” he cheered as they ran.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear... I am being a rebel, aren’t I?” Lady bit her lip nervously, then broke into a shameful secret grin. “I think I like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it, too. Rebel looks good on ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He led her through the streets and alleys of the town he knew so well, and they broke into casual conversation, smiling and laughing many times for no particular reason. It was just easy being together; it was happy, tender. As they strolled about town, Lady glanced up at the shining, silvery orb in the sky. She wondered how many stars were up there with the old Man in the Moon. With the street lamps, you couldn’t make out that many.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Lady went out with her family, they usually headed for the lush town park or the shopping district with its boutiques and diners. She wasn’t a regular on the other side of the tracks, where the junkyard and train station lay, and she didn’t want to go there. Lady wasn’t afraid of the “bad part” of town, but she was afraid of running into a certain dog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, she’d never spent much time on the riverfront. The only time she remembered being there was when they were searching for her runaway son and found a wig instead. Lady decided she needed some more happy memories of the river, so there they went.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is nice, ain’t it?” Buster said, glancing around. There were thick reeds and weeping willows, and everywhere they heard frogs croaking. The water was very still, except for when a fish would break the surface and make ripples. A family of otters played on the other side of the river. The night was a bit chilly, but that gave him an excuse to cozy up next to Lady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is nice,” Lady sighed, her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for what?” he chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For distracting me from… well, everything.” She looked at the lovely scenery, from the wooden bridge the tracks ran across to the weeping willow trees to the lights of the town in the backdrop. “I’ve been so distraught lately, and it’s been… it’s all… too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Buster stood up and trotted a little down the bank. “Sounds to me like ya need some fun.” Curious, she followed him closer to the water. He eyed her deviously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like ya need to play a bit more!” Without warning Buster jumped into the river with a mighty splash, spraying Lady with water and making her shriek and laugh in the same breath. He leapt around in the reeds, the mud, completely soaked and beaming ear to ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady shook her head and dove in after him. The Darlings would wonder how she’d gotten so wet and muddy, but for once, she didn’t care what anyone else thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Dober-Rott and the Cocker Spaniel splashed and played in the river shallows like they were puppies again, and anytime a grown-up dog gets to let loose and remember what it was like to be young, to be a carefree pup, it’s sure to be a good time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were so noisy that they scared away the family of otters, but they weren’t concerned with anyone but themselves that night. When they emerged from the rejuvenating waters, they were sopping wet and their feet were streaked brown. They rolled around in the grass to get dry, then they sat down on the sandbar, exhausted but exhilarated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rested her head on his strong shoulder. “Buster… Do you ever feel like everyone thinks of you one way when you’re really another?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And just once, you wish someone would see you for the real you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he gulped. “They all think I’m mean, or dangerous… They all think Dobermans and Rottweilers are dangerous, and I’m… I’m not. Honest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sweet and funny. And you care so much. Your heart is too big, and it… it hurts, doesn’t it? Caring so much?” Her voice broke. “Giving your heart away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It don’t have to. I’m tired of tha heartache.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They all think I’m this perfect lady, that I’m naive and innocent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya not naive at all. Ya smart and sassy and… and I see ya.” His heart was racing for the next part, for he hadn’t said the words in so long. Not since they’d been two foolhardy boys in the junkyard. Not since and never again, until now. “I love ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She held her breath, knowing all she should do and what she shouldn’t. She knew the feeling inside her, for she’d felt it before. It was familiar. “I love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the moon in the sky and the stars in their eyes, it was a lovely bella notte.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d woken up early that morning and said, “Ah, what a day!” to the blue sky, just like he used to. He’d rolled in dirt and shaken his fur out, he’d grabbed a bite out of a trash can, and he’d played chase with some mice. Yes sir, this was the high life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But throughout the day, The Tramp hadn’t stayed quite so sunny. His back ached from sleeping in a wooden barrels, not on fluffy pillows, and his stomach was growling by noon. Of course, he simply stole a couple’s sandwich lunch, but he reflexively whined and dropped it when they shouted. “Bad dog!” they’d screamed. His ears drooped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since when did he care if he was a “bad dog” or not? Why start now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still hungry, he’d ambled through the town looking for a few of his favorite restaurants that used to leave a few scraps out back for him. But he was shocked to see a clothing store where Bernie’s Diner used to be. He couldn’t eat overpriced clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That became his entire day. The Tramp thought it would be such fun to carry on like a free-willed puppy, for hadn’t everything been better back then? Happier then? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the times they were a-changing, so it was said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nightfall came, and all The Tramp had eaten that day was a few chicken legs he’d nicked from a restaurant and a chocolate pastry someone dropped. His stomach had ached for hours since the chocolate and he had to puke it up in an alley. Not exactly dignified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not exactly befitting The Greatest Street Dog of All Time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Lady…” he whispered, head down, hidden under a sidewalk bench. “I’m so sorry.” He wondered if he’d ever get the chance to tell her in person. He thought he smelled her when he crossed the street that led to the river, but he was probably imagining things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That thought led him to the town park, where he trudged down the paved walkway gazing at the stars overhead. The park was the best place in the city to see the night sky, the moonlight bright through the breaks in the tree leaves. The Tramp passed by loving couples, men and women sitting on benches, hilltops, or just walking under the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The early fall air made them hold each other a little closer. The Tramp felt a bit chilly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crossed a beautiful wooden bridge that stood over a creek, and he had the feeling he’d seen it before. There was a water fountain with a statue of Cupid in its center. Nearby, he saw a heart pierced by an arrow, drawn into drying cement. There were initials in it, JM and EB. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there were pawprints all around it, and stamped under the initials.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp couldn’t stand to be in the park any longer, and he dashed back out to the city streets and shop corners. Nearby there was a lane known to everyone as Restaurant Row, and it was where some of his favorite places were situated. They couldn’t have all closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony’s…” he sighed, but smiled. “Good old Tony’s! Can always count on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stomach grumbled, so he snuck around back to the alley behind the Italian restaurant, where he could smell the sizzling, seasoned meat sauce, fresh-boiled pasta, and buttery garlic bread. With a string of lights overhead, the crates of wine bottles against the wall, and the lovely cobblestone, Tony’s was an elegant reprieve from hunger. He barked twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh? I know that bark!” a friendly Italian voice said. “Signore Butch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp was thrilled to see a familiar face. Mustachioed Mr. Tony was a gentleman with a heart as big as his stomach, and he’d never turn away his favorite mutt. He came out through the swinging door and knelt down to scratch the dog’s ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fancy seeing you again!” he chuckled. Then he eyed his dirty fur and lack of collar. He pinched his nose, for the mongrel reeked of alley trash. “But Butch, what has happened? I thought you had a family, and your lovely Cockerel A-Spanish girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp hung his head and whined. His tail fell between his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no… Oh dear… Oh, I am sorry.” The large man patted the dog’s head and, whispering, pointed his thumb at the skinny chef in the kitchen who looked more than a little distracted on the job. “We know the feeling. Poor Joe has been on the rough with his wife. Between you and me, I don’t know if they make it, but we hope, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog’s stomach growled and he whined again, pawing at the kitchen door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, you are hungry! Well, I could never refuse you, could I, Mr. Butch?” Tony returned to the kitchen and reemerged with something that smelled cold, not hot. “Here you are, the perfect meal for the lonely bachelor — leftover pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp’s jaw dropped. He whined and tried to nose into the restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no! I am sorry, boy, but we cannot spare you any spaghetti. I hate to say it, but we are in tough times. Losing customers every day.” Tony cleaned his hands on his apron, sighing. “As they say, the times they are a-changing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed The Tramp on his forehead, then he disappeared into his restaurant and closed the door behind him. Of course, The Tramp couldn’t afford to be picky, so he gratefully ate up the cold pizza, but he walked out of that cobblestone alley with a heavy heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few blocks down, he turned into another alleyway that seemed slightly familiar. It was dirt-floored, wedged between two buildings with wooden crates and barrels all throughout. There was a bolted fence in the back. When had he been here before? Then it hit him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered the standoff with his son and his old pal, Buster, and his gang of lackeys. He remembered Scamp declaring himself a Junkyard Dog. He’d said something to his boy that day — that some things had to be learned on your own — that embarrassed now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wished he could change the past. He’d give anything for Buster to not hate him, for Scamp to not have skipped town, for himself to have not broken Lady’s heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morning in the countryside was cooler than the dogs had anticipated. The grass became dewy, and while it was sure to heat up in the day, the morning was frosty. Another sign that fall was in the air. Angel and Scamp had heard about the season of the year where leaves turned brown and orange and fell from the branches, kids decorated pumpkins, couples shared hot drinks, and families gave thanks. This would be the first full autumn of their lives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you sleep, guys?” Peg asked, for she’d woken soonest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel and Scamp yawned and shievered, and that was all the answer Peg needed. Peggy wanted to tell Angel everything on her mind, but she didn’t want to further disappoint her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna find some food, Tenderfoot?” Angel asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together, the young dogs began nosing around outside, but they soon realized the only food nearby was mice and rabbits — if they could catch them, that was. Their stomachs growled pitifully. “Okay, it’s not the milk and honey I was expecting,” she admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel…” he started softly. They were alone in the cool morning, sitting in a field. It was beautiful the way the grass was a little yellower each day, and how open the sky was, but pretty wasn’t everything. “I want to go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Scamp… I know you do. Maybe I do, too.” She hated to admit when she was wrong, but it had to be done. “Maybe this isn’t as glorious as I thought it’d be. But still… I… I’m afraid. I love your family, but sometimes it seems like…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like it’s not worth it. I mean, all they do is argue and fight, and eventually don’t we all go our separate ways, anyways? So what’s the point of us getting close now just to break our hearts later? You can’t live with them forever. They won’t be around forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel… I know all that, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it, Tenderfoot? Is a family worth it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about her question, really and truly. He remembered every fight he’d ever had with his prissy sisters and all the times his parents had scolded him. He imagined his dad disappointing, his mom overbearing, and his sisters annoying. He thought of Jim Dear and Darling giving him baths and Junior pulling his tail. He remembered loneliness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he said at last. “Family matters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded reluctantly, then she nuzzled him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. I’ll give them another chance. I’ll go back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad. Mom, Dad, my sisters… they all love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the Darlings, they’ll never kick me out? You promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re good people. I promise they won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They plowed through the mushy fields, paws wet and reeking of dirt, sweat, and the Great Outdoors, but their energy was renewed and they returned to Peg with smiling faces. The mother could sense something different about her girl, and she had to admit, she was pleased when Angel announced her change of plans. Peggy explained that winter was closer than she had realized, and it wasn’t as easy to find food and shelter as she’d hoped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as she longed for a new life and open air, Peg wasn’t about to let her daughter starve or freeze to death because of her silly yearning. “So how are we getting back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel and Scamp exchanged an uncertain look. “I guess we walk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s that road not far away. Maybe a car will pick us up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or maybe another train will come heading back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three dogs began the trek back to the dirt road near the train tracks. As it got later in the day, their chances of meeting a passing car surely went up. They walked for what felt like a mile back towards the town, and then finally, a car did come chugging along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just their luck, it was none other than the town’s bumbling dogcatcher in his dinky excuse for a vehicle. He was an ugly man who clearly took out his frustrations in life on every four-legged creature he came across. He drove up to them, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah ha! Three mangy mutts, I see,” he sneered when he got close. His greatest joy was making life miserable for anyone smaller than him. “Ooh, and two of you ain’t wearing a collar. Well, you’ve got yourselves a one-way ticket to the pound!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cruel man hopped onto the road, grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks, and threw them into the cage in the back of his vehicle. Never did he question why the dogs were so obedient, why they obliged him so. He wasn’t much for questions and thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dogcatcher paused to ponder the situation. “Hmm… the closest pound is back in town, and that’s a whole night’s drive… Well, I have a job to do! You mongrels belong behind bars, so by George, that’s where you’re going!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped back in his vehicle, ignited the engine, and sped off down the dirt road. In the rattling cage, the three dogs laughed at their stroke of good fortune. They had a long, bumpy trip ahead of them, but this way they didn’t have to walk back for an entire week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never thought I’d be happy to be caught,” he beamed. “I’m glad we’re together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t think we’d let you go back by yourself, did you?” she beamed right back. Then her face sombered and she looked out at the beautiful country meadow and pond they were driving away from. “Still, I… I wanted to go forward, y’know? To move on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peg licked her cheek. “Sometimes to move forward, baby, you gotta go back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t make sense. Forward is one way, back is another.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it won’t till you’re as old and gray as me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel chuckled. “I think Scamp’s a shade grayer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think so?” Scamp piped up. “Don’t ask me. I’m colorblind.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Junkyard Boys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, The Tramp knew all the ways to survive the town — where to get food most easily, how to avoid policemen and dogcatchers, and which fellow strays were friendly and which were not — that wasn’t the problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t forgotten the town. The town had forgotten him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dogs that used to pay him some respect were now abrasive and territorial, like two young dogs he could’ve sworn he’d given his sandwich to when they were just pups. Then there were the store owners, some of whom had even liked him and given him treats — if they remembered him at all, there were no treats anymore. Nothing besides a broom and a shout. Sure, there was Tony’s, but even they couldn’t give him as much food as they used to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Scamp…” he sighed when he saw a happy father with his little boy, showing him how to ride a bicycle. “Oh, Lady…” he said when the child’s mother joined them. She brought them two glasses of water, then their son showed her how he could ride all by himself, and the family hugged and the couple kissed and they all went indoors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp meandered through the town, bones aching and stomach rumbling, for no matter how much food he stole, it never seemed to be enough. He hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to full meals from Jim and Darling. Around a corner, he saw two more humans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were young men at the age of finding themselves in the world. They watched the other townspeople, but when they turned a corner and were by themselves, they only had eyes for each other. The rest of the world disappeared when their lips met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp’s heart ached. His jaw quivered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did he betray everyone who grew to care about him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe it’s over,” he mumbled. He walked block after block, through alley after alley, the town that he knew but didn’t know him. “Maybe it’s all over here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp hadn’t understood when his old flame Peggy told him she was done with this town, that she wanted something new for her life out west. He thought she was just past her prime, that she didn’t know how to get by anymore, but now he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t exactly a spring chicken himself. And now he could see the town wasn’t the same anymore, not for dogs their age anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe Peggy was right all along.” He fought back tears, suddenly overcome with regret for not having taken up Peg on her offer when they met by the carousel at midnight. If he’d known he would leave Lady two days later, he would’ve sung a different tune.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now The Tramp wanted to see his trainyard one last time, to remember how it felt to spend summer nights there and bathe in the locomotive steam. He wanted to steal the conductor’s keys one last time, just for kicks, and get his head scratched by children leaving for a trip. He longed to sleep in his wooden barrel before he hopped a train and left town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t run there. He walked with his head down, tail between his legs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was strange that he woke up so early that morning, given how late they’d stayed up. But something inside him told Buster to wake, told him that something wasn’t right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, babe,” he whispered, nudging his Lady awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The riverfront was soft and cool in the morning, and their symphony of crickets had been replaced by buzzing bees and multicolored dragonflies. The willow tree was vibrant, drooping green foliage on their backs. There was still the ribbet of frogs, but less constant than at night. The grass was dewey and it’d been cold overnight, but they warmed each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady blinked her brown eyes open, warm and lovely, but they had a strange effect on him that morning. “Well, good morning, handsome,” she whispered back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, it was strange. Buster couldn’t explain it, but he felt something pulling him from behind, telling him that he might’ve been happy but for some unfinished task. Was this guilt? Perhaps, but he hadn’t felt guilty for a long time… Then he realized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a longing, an aching for someone not there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Buster shook himself awake and stretched his paws out. “Ya hungry? I can grab ya breakfast.” She smiled but declined, then suddenly, she looked concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I spent all night away from home… Oh, I hate to worry Jim Dear and Darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, ya allowed a bit of fun,” he chuckled. Then on a more serious note, “But I do think ya should get home. Not that I want ya gone, but there’s… there’s someone I gotta see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady nodded. “I think I know who. I’m worried about him, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t bring herself to say his name for fear that she’d melt into regret, but she didn’t have to name him. As for Jim Dear and Darling, she knew it wasn’t fair to them to be away so long, especially when their other dogs were also gone. Buster had no trust in humans, but he understood she didn’t want to cause them any more grief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Lady left their escape by the riverside and made the journey back to Snob Hill, back to Jim and Darling. Of course, Buster would’ve offered to accompany her in case any other dogs bothered her, but not this time. What he had to do was urgent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t explain why he knew, but Buster had woken that day with a longing, an urge to see his oldest friend, and he knew exactly where he’d be. Where he always went.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A piercing whistle cut through the frantic, friendly chatter of the people at the train station. White steam billowed from the top of an iron locomotive that was packing up its cargo, loading its passengers, and getting ready to chug away from town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trainyard had tracks that criss-crossed all over the region, some going to New York, some out west to Philadelphia, and some all the way down to the nation’s capital. Now, The Tramp had quite a reputation back in the day, the most famous of all the street dogs, but he wasn’t sure if it reached quite that far. Perhaps he’d change that by hopping a steel horse and riding out west. Perhaps the legend would spread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps he’d simply find an even smaller town where he could get by a few years on begging, and no one would hear of The Tramp ever again. Perhaps that was more likely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the memories,” he said to the rooftops and chimneys of their small, little, not too big, little, homey, nice, little, quaint, little, always-friendly old New England town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beyond the posh people’s trains, he could see the wrong side of the tracks — gravel and concrete, dust and dirt, rags and crates and the old barrel he used to sleep in. It was nice to see this place one last time. The Tramp went to the end of a train, an open compartment he could hop into unnoticed, when someone approached him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not leaving without saying goodbye, are ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Buster. His big and burly, black-and-brown, best buddy Buster. Seeing him sent fresh waves of regret and heartache through him, and The Tramp couldn’t even meet his eyes. He backed away from the train. “How did you know I’d be here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya always came to tha trainyard when ya were feeling down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know I was feeling down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I woke up this morning with a funny feeling,” Buster explained, shuffling his paws awkwardly. “Like I knew everything wasn’t alright. I was with Lady, and she… she’s wonderful, and I love her, but this morning I was thinking about when we were… y’know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s odd.” A smile got the better of him. “I was thinking the very same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The train whistle sounded again, and he’d lived in the trainyard long enough to know what that meant. The conductor was calling out for people to hurry on board, to put their luggage on a cart, to take their seats. People were waving each other goodbye. The wheels began creaking to life, chugging forward inch by inch. His window was closing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So ya gonna go?” Buster frowned. “Leave town?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was two seconds ago. There’s been a slight change of plans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dogs walked up to each other, and they couldn’t say why they weren’t hostile, given everything that had happened. But neither drew their claws, showed their fangs, folded back their ears. They sniffed each other’s noses and sensed no ill will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They left the train platform together, weaving through the crowd of people in a rush, and they made their way over the metal rims and wooden tracks, over dirt and gravel to the grimier side of the trainyard. There they could have some quiet. There they could talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s life off the collar? As good as it used to be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” he sighed. “All the dogs I knew are gone. All the stores I loved are closed. Half the restaurants who used to give me food don’t remember me.” Now he came to the really hard part. “And I’m old. My back hurts, my knees are sore, and I’m not fast anymore. I thought I could relive my glory days, but they’re over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They passed an old tin-walled shed, stepped over a few planks and rusty nails, and they found The Tramp’s favorite spot on the wrong side of the tracks — his wooden barrel, the perfect spot to cozy up for the night. But his favorite nights were the times when he wasn’t alone. The barrel was spacious, roomy enough for two male dogs to cuddle in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what part I missed the most?” The Tramp grinned. “Being with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Buster bowed his head. “Really? After everything I put ya through?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know why you’re angry. I changed things. We always hate change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ain’t angry at ya anymore. I got tired of being angry all tha time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words The Tramp had been longing to hear. They filled him with fresh happiness, like the sun breaking the horizon after a long winter’s night. He hadn’t known how low down he’d been til those words took him so high.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From then on they spoke openly, just like they used to. The Tramp told him everything that had led him to return to the streets — how he’d enjoyed the Cushy Pillow Life and loved his mate and pups dearly, but how the more time passed, the more he thought about the golden days of his youth, when he was The Greatest Street Dog of All Time. And somehow the end of summer and the cool autumn winds made him feel older than ever, and then came Peg. He told Buster how she’d come for her daughter but taken him away, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Buster had his own story to tell. He explained how he’d lingered in the junkyard after his gang split up on Independence Day, but it was the loneliest he’d ever been. On the day that he’d twisted his ankle, he desired revenge on The Tramp, but then he met Lady and every negative feeling in him melted away. Maybe he wanted to make The Tramp jealous at first, to steal his girl, but before long he’d fallen head over heels himself. They grew close because they’d both been abandoned by him. They were both lonelier than they knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which brought them to their confrontation in the junkyard. The poker game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was ashamed of how recklessly they’d gambled. “Listen, last time we talked…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care about yesterday,” Buster said firmly. “I wanna move on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp smiled. “I was wrong when I said you’d never change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We both changed, even though we promised not to.” They both remembered the night, the longest day of summer when it felt like the sun would never go down, when the crickets played fiddle and the heat never ended. The young Dober-Rott and the Schnauzer mutt were alone in the junkyard, tired after a long game of hide-and-seek, resting next to each other. That night, they made a promise they could never keep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But know what?” Buster grinned. “Ya still the guy who sprung me from tha pound.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp grinned wider. “You’re still the guy who nicked the mayor’s hat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya still the guy who stole an entire meatwagon cause I was hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still the guy who fought off Reggie for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya still tha guy I fell in love with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gazed at the Dober-Rott with such a strange mix of emotions that, for a moment, both dogs were unsure. The Tramp was fighting the urge to back out of commitment. “I love you” was always followed by dropped defenses, passionate mistakes, off-putting neediness, and the heartbreak of backpedaling. He thought back to their days together, wondering if they were really in love, or if they were just young and reckless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that noncommittal urge was a leftover from his youth. He had committed to Lady, and it’d been the most wonderful time of his life. He wanted the same for him and Buster. They may have been young, but their love wasn’t reckless. “Oh, Buster…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya made me happy. No matter how tough tha streets got, ya were always upbeat. Always positive.” He made a low whine. “That’s why I can’t stand to see ya so down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s from being alone out here. I miss you, and I miss Lady.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She don't realize it, but I know Lady misses ya, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured she loved you now. A second ago you said you loved her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Buster didn’t know how to explain this part in a way that didn’t sound selfish or undecided. He’d been turning it over in his head since his funny feeling that morning. “Yeah, I do love her, but that don’t mean I love ya any less.” He smiled at his old friend, hoping it all made sense. “I love ya both, just in different ways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I was thinking the same. That’s happened a lot today. Guess we know each other pretty well, huh?” The Tramp had made peace with his love life a long time ago, way back in their junkyard days. He fell for guys and he fell for girls, and one didn’t make the other untrue. They were equally true. They were two halves of him that made one whole being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still love Lady myself,” The Tramp admitted. “I realized that last night, when I went to the park and Tony’s… the places where we fell in love. I want to tell her how sorry I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’ll accept tha apology. This morning she said she’s worried about ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad. Do you think she can love us both?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only way to find out is to ask her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Buster moved to leave the trainyard, The Tramp dashed in front of him. Their wet noses touched. “Wait. Let’s not return to Snob Hill yet.” Sharing their hearts had opened a floodgate, and he wasn’t prepared to close it just yet. He would return to Jim and Darling, return to his collar and his Lady, but he wanted to be a wild dog just a few hours more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp led Buster out of the trainyard, but not towards the rich part of town. They wove through alleyways and across cobbled streets, jumped gates and squeezed under fences, until they were standing in front of the construction pipe entrance to the junkyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They entered together. They ran together. They played together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For so long Buster had been alone here, and all the time he would hear the echoing laughter of a scruffy gray dog and a black-and-brown boy, two pups who grew up here with no one but each other. For the first time in ages, the laughter wasn’t a memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were together, The Tramp felt young again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dogcatcher’s dinky vehicle had driven miles, the hours passing slower than the grass grew. He stopped to refill his tank with a carton of gasoline. He drove through all night, only stopping to nap before hitting the road again. By the afternoon, they’d crossed the town limits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scamp, Angel, and Peg didn’t get much sleep rattling around in the cage, but they hadn’t expected a five-star hotel. Ever since the sun had risen, they’d been awake and pondering their situation. “Well, we’re back in town,” Angel said, peering at the homes and stores they passed driving through downtown. “And heading for the pound. Should I worry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh, hadn’t thought what we’d do after he drove us here.” Scamp shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, don’t worry, hon,” Peg said with a chuckle. “I’ve broken out of the pound plenty of times. We can get out through the tunnel we dug.” Her face fell. “Unless they covered it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m officially worried,” Angel groaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vehicle hit a bump in the road, a brick in the cobblestone that’d come out of place, and threw them all in the air. They hit the ground muttering and sore, but Scamp noticed that the door of the cage was open a little. It wasn’t big enough for them to slip through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now they were nearing the dump, and it wasn’t much farther from there to the junkyard. Angel hated the site of the junkyard — it revived memories she’d rather forget. But this day, she had to be thankful they drove past the dump. Two dogs spotted them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, is that…” Angel muttered, then louder, “It’s your dad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad!” Scamp barked. “And he’s with… Buster. Why is he with Buster?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My, oh my,” Peg chuckled to herself. She saw how close Buster and The Tramp were walking. “Will wonders never cease?” She’d have to congratulate the Rotterman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp and Buster noticed the dogcatcher’s vehicle. “That sounds like Scamp!” he shouted, running forward to get a closer look. “It is Scamp! And Angel and Peggy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They hitched a ride back to town,” Buster laughed. Then he realized their dilemma wasn’t that funny. “Oh no, he’s taking them to tha pound. C’mon, buddy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They immediately began the chase, but the vehicle was already a ways ahead of them. Their paws splashed through mud and gravel, but as much as it stung, they kept charging after their friends. The two of them used to chase the dogcatcher’s car for fun back in the day, but this wasn’t for fun, and they weren’t as fast as they used to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The car turned a corner and disappeared into a hectic crowd of automobiles and horse-drawn carriages trotting through the town. Buster had always been cautious around those massive horses, for he knew dogs who’d been kicked and never recovered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad! Buster!” Scamp shouted. “The cage is open a bit! If you knock the car over, the whole door might come off!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knock it over?” his father repeated. “How are we supposed to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Buster looked at the dogcatcher’s car, then looked at the horses clopping down the streets, then back again. “I got an idea,” he told The Tramp. “Be ready to spring them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you gonna — ” Then he realized. “Buster, wait!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his old friend had already charged into the middle of the road. As the dogcatcher was going one way, there was a horse-drawn buggy coming up the other way. The Rotterman rushed in front of the enormous brown horses and began barking wilding, baring his fangs, anything he could do to scare them. He could be awfully scary when he wanted to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As planned, the horses panicked. They neighed and kicked their legs out, barely missing Buster, who dove to the left and drove them to run the other way. With their blinders on, they kicked the dogcatcher’s vehicle right as it was passing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, nelly!” the dogcatcher cried. The horses had kicked so forcefully that they threw his entire automobile off the road. The vehicle tipped over and slammed into the sidewalk, knocking over a street lamp that crashed on top of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the lamppost hit, the door of the cage cracked open even wider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Son!” The Tramp yelled, racing up to the overturned vehicle. “Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His son coughed and staggered to his paws. “Yeah, we’re alright. C’mon, guys!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scamp, Angel, and Peg made haste and squeezed out of the dogcatcher’s cage, running free down the streets and barking merrily. When they were a safe distance, they looked back to admire their handiwork. It was quite a scene — automobiles were stopped behind the wreck, honking their horns. The horses that had kicked were finally calmed down. The dogcatcher emerged from his damaged vehicle rubbing his head. Policemen had arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buster, where are you?” He’d been filled with dreadful deja vu, and he was horrified that he would look under the wheels of the vehicle and see his Buster buddy lying there. Poor Trusty had barely survived his injury. But just when The Tramp was beginning to panic, the Dober-Rott emerged unharmed from behind the wreckage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you wouldn't be Buster without busting something,” he laughed. The Tramps’ concern was visible, and knowing he’d been so worried seemed to embolden Buster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya darn right!” Buster cheered. “I oughta cause wrecks more often.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And here I’d forgotten what a nice guy you were,” Angel scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need I remind ya who just saved ya from tha pound?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, this summer you got Scamp thrown in the pound.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I guess we’re even, ain’t we, Angel Cakes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me Angel Cakes!” she growled, moving away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tramp stood between them before the argument got any worse. They scowled and glared at each other, but said no more on the matter. Angel and Scamp backed off, looking at Buster warily. They couldn’t ignore that he’d just freed them, but that didn’t mean the events of the Fourth of July were forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three adults walked ahead of them. After seeing so much good and bad on the streets, they understood that life was too short to hold grudges. They were happy to catch up. “ What made ya come back?” Buster asked. “Tha Tramp told me ya skipped town the other day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure did.” She grinned at The Tramp. “Till your son changed our minds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whirlwind was never gonna give up her,” he chuckled. He owed his boy an apology for what he’d told him in that alley — clearly, Scamp and Angel had something special.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The early evening sun was glowing against an orange-and-pink sky, shining over the chimneys, laundry lines, and rooftops of their quaint town. The five dogs were worn out from the day’s excitement, but they only had a little farther to go now. The Tramp and Angel had both made the mistake of running from it, but they were ready to give it another shot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So where to now, Dad? Scamp asked with a goofy grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was only one place on his mind. “Home. We’re going home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so The Tramp, Buster, Scamp, Angel, and Peg followed the familiar path through the winding town streets to the wealthy neighborhood, to Snob Hill. It seemed right for the five of them to return here, to the perfectly-trimmed bushes and iron fences, the pristine sidewalks and the trees that were beginning to change color.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the place Peg had come to ask her daughter to run away with her. The place Angel had been welcomed with open arms, though it took her time to accept it. The place Scamp had dug up, chewed up, peed on, run away from, and run back to. The place Buster went to get his revenge but found love instead. The place where The Tramp first met his Lady when she was wondering what a new baby meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jim and Darling were out for their evening walk, though it was much quieter with only Lady and her three daughters. Jim Dear held the dogs’ leashes while Darling walked hand-in-hand with baby Junior, really a toddler now. He waddled alongside his parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Junior who first heard the barking, who first saw the five dogs running up the street and pointed, laughing with glee. “Scamp! Tramp! Angel! They back, they back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What on earth?” Jim Dear gasped. “Oh, thank goodness!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is them! All of them!” Darling clapped her hands joyfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady’s eyes went wide at the miraculous sight. Annette, Colette, and Danielle woofed to see their brother, father, and adopted sister returning safe and sound. All four of them, however, stayed with their owners. They knew better than to run into the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Darling had clapped her hands, she’d let go of Junior. The little blonde boy was so happy to see his dogs that he dashed head first off the sidewalk and onto the town street. In years past, Snob Hill was a quiet neighborhood where not many cars drove, but as time went on it seemed everyone on the block had a noisy automobile, and they drove carelessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junior ran to greet his dogs. The car hurdled towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jimmy, come back!” His mother’s joy became horror. “Jimmy!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Place That Quiet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The boy’s parents watched helplessly as the automobile sped through the street, heading right for Junior. The family dogs, Lady on one side of the street and The Tramp on the other, realized what was about to happen with dread. Junior heard his mother’s cry.</p><p>“Jimmy, come back!” she’d shouted at him. “Jimmy!”</p><p>Now the child was confused — he’d been so excited to see his dogs returning home, but now his mother was screaming — and confusion turned to fright. Junior began to cry.</p><p>His father, Jim Dear, had leapt into the street after him, but the toddler was far into the street and he had no chance of reaching him in time. Fortunately, someone else did.</p><p>Buster had seen enough accidents in his life to immediately know the dangers of children crossing the road. In a second, the great black-and-brown dog had charged into the street, grabbed Junior’s shirt, and dragged him out of the street.</p><p>Poor Junior got his knees scraped up, and that made him cry even louder, but Buster pulled him to safety before the speeding car could hit him.</p><p>Jim Dear had stopped in shock, but now he raced to his son’s side. Darling’s horror became joy once again and she folded her hands to pray thanks. Now that the street was clear, Lady, her daughters, and Darling all rushed to join the rest of their family.</p><p>“He’s alright!” Jim Dear shouted, picking Junior up from the sidewalk.</p><p>“Oh, Jim,” she sniffed, kissing her son, “that was the scariest moment of my life.”</p><p>They’d lifted their child up, but now Junior was reaching his arms out not to his parents, but to the dog that saved him. Buster backed away at first — he disliked human kids, for they were loud and smelly and loved to pull tails — but after The Tramp gave an encouraging nod, he stepped forward. The boy threw his arms around Buster’s neck.</p><p>“You saved our son.” Jim Dear dropped to his knees. “How can we ever repay you?”</p><p>“We could adopt him,” Darling suggested. “What’s one more dog?”</p><p>“Well, if that’s what he wants,” Jim cautioned. He knew this dog was different from Angel, who’d seemed to know people. This dog had clearly been a stray all his life.</p><p>“Looks like he already knows Lady and Tramp!” he chuckled, for the three dogs were sniffing noses with each other and wagging their tails. </p><p>After they'd all caught their breath and Junior had stopped crying, the family crossed the street, though they looked both ways first. Lady, The Tramp, and their four pups followed their owners, and Angel and Peg trotted after them. A little reluctantly, Buster joined them. The dogs were thrilled to be back in their yard, and after running through the grass, the younger ones raced into the house. The older dogs remained outside.</p><p>Jim Dear held the door open for the Rotterman — he even got a strip of bacon from the kitchen to tempt him inside — but he wouldn’t go. Instead, Buster went for the doghouse.</p><p>So the couple fixed a bowl of kibble, topped with bacon, and a tin bucket of cool water, and they set it all by the doghouse for him. “I don’t think we’ll get him through the door,” Jim Dear stood back and let the Dober-Rott enjoy his meal. He wouldn’t eat when the man was close. “So how about this, big fella? You can sleep out here whenever you want. Come and go as you please. We’ll feed you anytime you’re hungry.”</p><p>Buster devoured the kibble and bacon and nearly sloshed all the water out, then he laid down inside the doghouse. Jim Dear and Darling believed he got the idea.</p><p>The father and mother brought their son inside to bandage his scraped knees, and the dogs were left outside. Annette, Colette, and Danielle discovered a new female dog among them, and they pulled old Peg inside the house to show her their collection of bows and ribbons. That left Lady and The Tramp in the backyard with Buster. They were rejoined by Scamp and Angel, who had been thinking over what to say to their former bully.</p><p>“Don’t think we’ve forgotten all the trouble you caused on the Fourth of July,” she huffed. “I’ve known you a long time, Buster. You’re nothing but bad news.”</p><p>“I’ve known him longer,” The Tramp said. “And it’s not that simple, Angel.”</p><p>“Isn’t it? He let Scamp go to the pound, he bullied everyone in his gang, and he — he called me His Girl all the time,” Angel seethed. “He knew I hated that.”</p><p>“Would it help if I said sorry?” Buster offered. “I know I was a jerk. I know I can’t take back teasing ya. But I wanna be better now. Ya trouble is my trouble.”</p><p>“Really? Cause I thought Buster’s trouble was Buster’s trouble.”</p><p>“Not anymore. Everyone’s trouble is Buster’s trouble!”</p><p>She didn’t look convinced, but Angel quickly realized she was alone in her grudge. Lady and The Tramp stood beside him comfortably, and even Scamp — she’d counted on Scamp to take her side — looked uneasy. “Tenderfoot! Don’t tell me you forgive him.”</p><p>“I think I do,” he admitted, looking at the Dober-Rott in a new light. “Buster could’ve been hurt by those horses, but he did what he did. We’d be in the pound if he hadn’t. And he could’ve been hit by that car, but he still risked his life to save Junior.” Slowly, Scamp moved over to stand with his parents. “I know Buster did wrong, but I believe he’s changed.”</p><p>“Thank you, Scampo! My main man!” Buster laughed, then took on a more serious tone. “Look, Angel, I wasn’t nice in the junkyard. But I never let ya starve, did I? Don’t ya know I did everything I could to keep ya guys safe? Ya were my gang. I took care of ya.”</p><p>She kept a steady frown so they wouldn’t know she was tossing and turning inside.</p><p>“I can’t convince ya overnight, but one day I will. That’s a Buster promise.”</p><p>By then it was late in the evening, and the dogs were well and truly exhausted. Jim and Darling brought them all inside for a much-delayed dinner, and they were ready to sleep. Peg wasn’t one of theirs, but when they saw her cuddled next to Angel, they decided to let her spend the night. After his latest adventure, Scamp was glad to sleep in his own bed again. He even let his sisters join him, and they didn’t complain about his stench.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>In a few hours, everyone else in the house was sound asleep. That was what Lady and The Tramp had been waiting for. Careful not to wake their owners or their pups, they snuck out the doggy door and returned to the backyard. They made for the doghouse.</p><p>Under the cover of night, the three of them could finally talk.</p><p>It seemed Buster, like them, hadn’t really fallen asleep but waited until the world was dark and quiet. He emerged from the doghouse and they all moved towards the flower beds. “That was a great thing you did today,” The Tramp whispered.</p><p>“Anyone woulda done tha same,” Buster shrugged. “I don’t even like kids.”</p><p>“Well, I think Junior likes you,” Lady giggled, nuzzling his chest.</p><p>The display of affection made them all pause, take a step back, and clear their throats. The silence between them, full of tension and heartache, was so loud that the neighborhood racoons and owls must’ve stopped what they were doing to listen in.</p><p>“Let me start by saying, to you Lady,” The Tramp said, steadying his breaths, “that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for staying out with Peg and trying to lie about it. I’m sorry for losing my temper with you. And I am so, so sorry I left you to go back to my old life.”</p><p>“Oh, Tramp…” she sniffed, hanging her head like when Darling smacked her for the first time, “...I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, and I’m sorry I pushed you away.”</p><p>“All this time, I was remembering the fun I had on the streets. I thought I could get those good times back, but yesterday’s gone. And y’know what?” He dropped to the grass so they were at eye level. Their noses touched. “It wasn’t nearly as nice as my life with you.”</p><p>“So do you… do you want to be Tramp again? Or are you The Tramp?”</p><p>He shook his head at his own foolishness. “Forget the ‘The.’ I don’t need a silly title to feel worthy of it.” He licked her cheek softly. “Call me Tramp, sweetheart.”</p><p>“I’m so glad, Tramp. I really do love you. But I think I love someone else, too.”</p><p>“That’s odd,” he chuckled. “I was thinking the very same.”</p><p>Their attention turned to the handsome Rotterman sitting across from them. This was a sensation that neither could’ve predicted, but Lady and Tramp knew it to be true.</p><p>As for Buster, he’d listened to their shared apologies awkwardly. They seemed so happy together, and so happy to make things right, that Buster thought himself stupid and childish for ever hating their love. What they had was good, and Buster was afraid he’d ruin it.</p><p>But the look in their eyes said otherwise. He sat a little closer to them.</p><p>“Tha day I twisted my ankle, when I first met ya, Lady… I laid in tha junkyard a long time feeling sorry for myself. I felt like no one cared about me.” He reached out and licked Tramp’s face. “But ya always have.” He turned to Lady and licked her. “And so do ya.”</p><p>“This morning, Buster stopped me from leaving on a train and never coming back,” Tramp recounted for Lady. “We talked a while, and we realized that… well, if it doesn’t sound too silly… we still love each other. And we love you, Pidge. Is that okay?”</p><p>“Is any of this okay?” Buster whispered. “I mean, three of us… it’s different.”</p><p>“It is different,” Lady admitted, then she nuzzled them both in turn. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love you both. This isn’t what I thought love was supposed to look like — it’s not like Jim Dear and Darling — but this feels right to me.”</p><p>The Cocker Spaniel, the Schnauzer mutt, and the Dober-Rott all curled up together in the backyard, and though the winds blew a little bit colder, they were all warm that night. Buster laid his head on Tramp’s back, Tramp rested on Buster’s chest, and Lady cuddled between them. </p><p>“The older I get,” Tramp said quietly, his chest rising and falling contently, “the more I realize love is the only thing in the world that matters.”</p><p>“That’s right,” Lady whispered. “We can make this work.”</p><p>Suddenly Buster laughed uncontrollably, and the other two shushed him. They stared at him, wanting to know what was so hilarious. “Buster, Lady, Tramp… Don’t ya get it?” He grinned his crocodile grin. “We’re a big, happy BLT sandwich.”</p><p>“Has anyone ever told you you’re not funny?”</p><p>“Ya wouldn’t be tha first, babe.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The next day was a celebration in the Darlings’ yard, a holiday all to themselves. It wasn’t the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, or Christmas. It wasn’t Junior, Jim Dear, or Darling’s birthday, but regardless the husband telephoned the office to say he wouldn’t be coming into work today. “Family, boss,” Jim said into the receiver. “It’s family matters.”</p><p>The dogs had stunk to high heavens when they returned to Snob Hill yesterday evening, so the first order of business was to get the old tin bathtub, the large one, for a backyard pool party. An entire bottle of dog shampoo, lukewarm water, and nine dogs made for quite an event. “In the water, Scamp! You smell like a cow pasture,” they ordered, pinching their noses. “Oh, Angel, so do you! How far away did you two go?”</p><p>The young dogs had such fun playing in the water — even Scamp barked happily, and despite Jim Dear scrubbing him a bit harder than the rest, he was soon splashing Angel and his sisters. The glee was infectious, and the older dogs were soon sopping wet and laughing themselves. Even Junior hopped in, wearing his one-piece bathing suit, shrieking joyfully. </p><p>“You too, big fella!” Jim Dear got Buster with the hose. “I don’t think you’ve ever had a bath in your life.” Some chasing and spraying was required with him.</p><p>The weather smiled on them, for although it was September, the day was pleasant. After everyone was scrubbed, hosed, and patted down with towels, the midday sun soon had them fresh and dry. Jim decided such a nice day warranted a Brown family barbeque.</p><p>“Jim Dear, you know what happens when you cook.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with my cooking? The dogs love it, don’t they?”</p><p>While Buster had considered making a run for it during bathtime, the smell of sizzling hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill convinced him to stay a little longer. The only beggar among the dogs was Scamp, who’d been frequently chastised at the dinner table — he usually got Junior to sneak him a few bites — but soon all the dogs were enjoying hot burgers. Darling brought out the picnic blanket and lemonade, and it was a memorable meal.</p><p>The food was delicious, though maybe a tad burnt.</p><p>“Seems we’ve lured two more!” Jim Dear laughed as their neighbors’ dogs, Jock and Trusty, came trotting down the sidewalk. The terrier and bloodhound were far too dignified to beg, but they didn’t see the harm in a social visit, especially when the smell of grilled beef wafted so temptingly into their yard.</p><p>“Ack, so glad ye’re home again, me mukkers!” Jock avoided Scamp though, for he was wearing his favorite knitted tartan scarf and still had memories of an unraveled jumper.</p><p>“We were awful worried about you bunch,” Trusty chuckled. He sniffed out the runaway Scamp, he sniffed out his father, and he sniffed his way to the stranger among them. “Why, who’s this fella here? I don’t reckon I’ve had the pleasure.”</p><p>“Names’s Buster. I don’t shake paws and I ain’t sniffing ya rear.”</p><p>The bloodhound’s eyes widened, but the black Scottish terrier stifled a laugh.</p><p>“Hmm… I’ve met a few dogs such as yourself, the black-and-brown fellas…” Trusty raised an eyebrow. “Tracked down a few who weren’t on the right side of the law.”</p><p>“Maybe they were good canines in bad situations, grandpa.”</p><p>“That is entirely possible,” Trusty said wisely. “Entirely plausible.”</p><p>“Oh, I wanted to tell ye!” Little Jock bounced up to Tramp happily, puffing his chest out. “I did go back to the dog park, and I may be getting on in years, but I found meself a sweet Pekinese girl named Abigail. Ach, ain’t she just darling? And it’s all thanks to ye!”</p><p>“To me?” Tramp laughed. “What did I do?”</p><p>“Nice is better than cool. Listen when she talks. Make her laugh.”</p><p>Tramp shook his head in pleasant astonishment. He gazed at his lovely Lady, who had stayed by his side for so long till he’d grown restless, and his heart was heavy. But with the smell of hotdogs and the beautiful sun, shame and regret didn’t last long. He winked at Jock. “You still got it, highlander. Age is nothing to fret over.”</p><p>By the tulip beds, Peg and Angel were listening in to their conversation curiously. Jim Dear and Darling had never met old Peggy before, but she was friendly and they bathed and fed her with the rest. “That’s nice for the Scotsman. Everyone deserves someone to have that special love with,” Peg said, her fluffy tail dropping. “I’m glad you got Scamp, baby.”</p><p>“Don’t be sad, Momma… I bet a lot of guys would love you.”</p><p>“That’s the problem, hon. I just want a good one.”</p><p>“I’m sure there’s someone looking for you right now.”</p><p>“Peggy! Oh, good to see ye, Peg!”</p><p>None other than Bull, the portly English bulldog from the pound, came waddling into the family’s backyard. He was a wide smiler, big-bellied, and very fond of giving kisses, though he tended to slobber. “Pardon the party-crasher,” he chuckled, “but I heard from the daschund at the barber’s, who heard it from the labrador at the baker’s, who heard it from the sheepdog behind the post office that ye were back in town! Oh, am I ever glad.”</p><p>“You’re glad, huh?” Peg said, tilting her head. “That’s awful sweet.”</p><p>“Ah, well, y’know… we’ve known each other so long… pound pals, ain’t we?”</p><p>“Hey there, Bully! Long time no see.” Tramp gave his old friend a sly grin.</p><p>The mother and daughter excused themselves while the boys caught up on the street scene, who was in the pound and who was out, and who’d marked which fire hydrant. On the other side of the doghouse, Peg and Angel giggled quietly. </p><p>“Momma, I’ve got a feeling Bull didn’t just come for the hotdogs.”</p><p>“Oh, stop it! He can be so dim-witted, and selfish sometimes, and he’s… he’s…”</p><p>“Aww, he’s got a sweet spot for you. Give the guy a chance.”</p><p>“I suppose he is kinda cute. An ugly kinda cute.” She peered at the bulldog from behind the doghouse. “And he’d got that accent. Gotta love a man with an accent.”</p><p>They returned to Bull and Tramp, and to the chubby dog’s great surprise, she gave him a gentle lick on the cheek. “Thanks for missing me, Oxford.” He chortled and smiled himself silly, and the two of them ran to get some more hotdogs and burgers.</p><p>“These two are precious, aren’t they, Jim Dear?” his wife nudged.</p><p>“You can’t be serious! The city will give us a notice for having so many dogs.”</p><p>“No, not us,” she giggled, stooping down to scratch them under the chin. “But I know Pete and Margot down the street are wanting some older, quiet dogs… Don’t you think these two would be perfect for them?” Peg and Bull woofed and licked her hands.</p><p>It was a backyard party to remember. The family had to shut the front gate before the grill attracted any more interested parties — they already knew the neighborhood would forever call them “those crazy dog people” — for the sheer number at the party, but the town had never known a more well-behaved pack. Dessert was a box of dog treats, one for everyone — Lady, Tramp, Buster, Scamp, Angel, Annette, Colette, Danielle, Jock, Trusty, Peg, and Bull — and after a while, the family turned in for the evening. They poured whiskey and wine, and milk for Junior, and settled around the fire to listen to a show on their fancy new radio.</p><p>Since Buster hadn’t wanted to go inside, Lady and Tramp stayed by the doghouse with him. Their stomachs were full, their energy spent, and just lying in the grass together was nice. They were joined by Jock and Trusty, and while everyone else was settled in the kitchen, Angel and Scamp wandered outside to join the grown-ups. It made them feel more grown-up.</p><p>“I suppose we should tell you,” Tramp began, “about us three.”</p><p>“Buster is very dear to us both.” Lady took his paw. “We love each other.”</p><p>“In different ways, y’know? But good different.” Buster beamed.</p><p>This was not the news any of them had expected to hear. At first Jock and Trusty weren’t sure what to say, but when they saw the smiles on their faces, what could they do but smile themselves? Angel and Scamp exchanged a confused look, then they laughed joyfully at the surprise turn. She was still a bit wary, but he’d always admired Buster’s brazen sneer and sheer audacity, so Scamp realized he was okay with it. “Life sure is funny, isn’t it?”</p><p>“It’s not how we did things in my day.” Trusty paused to think about the whole thing, which took a little, and then grinned. “But we’re not in my day anymore, are we?”</p><p>“If it’s love, lads and lassie,” Jock assured them, “then it’s good.”</p><p>That was the last warm night of summer, and before long the fireflies stopped showing and the branches turned bare, but they had memories of sun to keep them through the cold. Angel was content with her sixth home, and she was happy to have her mother just a few blocks away. Scamp soon stopped chewing hats and tearing the upholstery. Buster never wore a collar and he was never chained to the doghouse, but it was warm in the winter with Junior’s baby blanket, and he was soon sleeping there more often than the junkyard. Lady and Tramp had him, they had each other, and they had their family.</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------------------ONE YEAR LATER-----------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The days came and went in their quaint little town, found somewhere or other in charming New England, but one wouldn’t think all that much had changed. Strays still ran footloose and collar-free around the cobbled streets, so the dogcatchers still chased them with their nets and their ugly automobiles. Fortunately, the catchers weren’t that talented.</p><p>Though many local shops had hit a dry spell at the end of last year, spring and summer had revitalized business. Tony’s Italian restaurant got more customers with each beautiful night, and Tony and Joe served the town — soon to be a city — for many years to come.</p><p>Far across the still-town, in a wealthier neighborhood the street dogs had nicknamed Snob Hill, a large gray dog yawned to the bright morning. The canine was on the front porch of a large white-and-lavender house, a relaxing spot where he snoozed away the daylight.</p><p>His nap was interrupted when a lovely dog with cream-colored fur, a big poofy tail, and a purple collar around her neck came out the front door. “You ready, Tenderfoot?”</p><p>“Guess now’s as good a time as any, Angel,” he said, biting back another yawn. Scamp’s scraggly fur was still that strange color, neither gray nor brown but some shade lost somewhere in between. He was full-grown, his limbs longer and his Schnauzer beard scruffier. As anyone could’ve guessed, he was the spitting image of his father.</p><p>Angel also looked much the same, except the fluff of hair on her head had grown and her tail was bigger and bushier. She’d grown as large as her mother.</p><p>“Have you been to see everybody?” Angel asked. “Told them all?”</p><p>“Let me see… I saw Jock and Trusty. They were sad but they understood. And I told Annie, Collie, and Dannie when we went to Aunt Sarah’s last night.”</p><p>The greatest surprise of the year had been that Aunt Sarah — a cat-lover and dog-hater all her life — had grown so fond of Annette, Colette, and Danielle. Tragically, her pair of Siamese cats lost their lives when the old woman took a vacation to Paris, the City of Lights. They’d been passing a skyscraper when a falling piano, which strangely enough had chopsticks stuck in the keys, squished Si and Am flat. It was a very tragic day.</p><p>A few months later, Jim Dear and Darling had allowed her to take the three girls home with her, and it’d been a smash hit. They were terribly well-behaved, and Aunt Sarah spent the rest of her days giving Annette, Colette, and Danielle lots of pretty bows.</p><p>“You’ve seen Bull and your mom, right? How are those two getting on?”</p><p>“Like peas in a pod. He keeps her from getting lonely, and she loves that old bulldog more than she’ll ever admit.” Angel smiled, thinking for a moment about her youth, when her mom left her in the junkyard. She was grateful that she’d gotten to know Peg better. </p><p>“Then that’s everyone. I believe we are good to go.”</p><p>“So let’s get going, Tenderfoot.”</p><p>He put his teeth on her collar, and with a bit of struggling, got it off her head. She grabbed his collar and pulled it off of him. They hadn’t thought this would be the difficult part, but when they’d laid their teal and violet collars on the front porch, their chests grew tight.</p><p>Scamp remembered how thrilled he was to be free of it that fateful Independence Day, and how glad he’d been to get it back. Angel thought of when Jim Dear and Darling first gave her the collar, and how joyful it was. They exchanged a tender look.</p><p>But they’d made up their minds weeks ago. </p><p>As they left the front steps and exited the yard, turning to take one last gaze at the home and yard, they were watched by three dogs who lingered around the corner of the house, just out of sight. “They really did go… I’ll miss them so much.”</p><p>“Like they said they would, sweetheart. We know Scamp and Angel have wanted this for a while now.” He licked her cheek gently. “Let the young have their dreams.”</p><p>“They better be careful,” the Dober-Rott sighed. “I wish we’d taught him more.”</p><p>“We taught him plenty. I think they’re ready, and I’m glad for them.”</p><p>Lady, Tramp, and Buster were a little older, a little grayer. She was content with the quiet life, she’d always been, and after all their adventures and dangers on the streets, the two boys had grown fond of retirement, too. It sure beat ending up behind bars.</p><p>“Jim Dear and Darling will miss them. Oh, and Junior! He loves Scamp so much.”</p><p>“Little Jimmy’s starting school soon. And he always has Buster here.”</p><p>The Rotterman grinned stupidly. For a dog who’d never liked children, he had quickly become Jimmy’s favorite. And what could Buster say? The kid threw a good ball.</p><p>“All part of being a parent, isn’t it? Kids gotta start their own lives someday.”</p><p>“Yeah, but why’d it have to be today?” Buster sighed and rolled over.</p><p>They all laid down in the grass, resting their heads on each other. Lady had never known so much love in her life, and she was ready to smile and sleep. For Tramp and Buster, who’d thought it was every dog for himself for so long, this life was heaven on earth.</p><p>So they didn’t stop Scamp and Angel from running through the dirt roads and brick streets, the town they knew so well. They didn’t stop them from visiting all the familiar spots — Tony’s restaurant, the romantic park, the town junkyard, the riverside. And finally, near the edge of town, they paused. “It’s time to move on,” Angel whispered.</p><p>“Everyone’s got to sooner or later,” Scamp said. He’d been apprehensive about this day, but now he was nothing but excited. He gazed at the distant mountains and forests, the fields beyond the horizon, and past what he could see with his own two eyes. </p><p>“Look at it, Angel. There’s a great big hunk of world out there with no fence around it, where two dogs can find adventure and excitement, and beyond those distant hills… who knows what wonderful experiences? And it’s all ours for the taking, Angel. It’s all ours.”</p><p>The pair made their way down to the trainyard, just like the day Angel and her mother had left the first time and Scamp had leapt after them. The last train of the day blared its whistle, ready to depart, and the two dogs jumped into an open compartment near the caboose.</p><p>The engine roared into action, the steam whistle hissed and bellowed again, and the wheels started to roll. The dogs felt the floor shade beneath their paws. The steel horse began chugging and chugging away, picking up speed as it ran along the rails.</p><p>“So where do we go now, Tenderfoot?” Angel asked, her eyes sparkling.</p><p>“Anywhere and everywhere we want,” Scamp woofed, settling down beside her and staring out the open compartment. The fields and trees became a blur of green and gold, blessed by the bright sun and the warm air. “I’ll go anywhere, as long as it’s with my family.”</p><p>“You’re my family, Tenderfoot,” Angel whispered.</p><p>They were quiet for a while, content to gaze at the passing colors and speeding grasses, forests, and meadows, holding each other dear. Angel spokt up first. “Do you suppose we’ll ever settle down someplace? Mom used to talk about a nice farm, with a barn and plenty of food and hay… Maybe a family of farmers to feed us. Think we’ll find a place that quiet?”</p><p>“I know we will.” Scamp beamed at her. “Y’know, Dad always teased me about… well, about what our kids might be like. Our puppies.”</p><p>“Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we, hon?”</p><p>“Guess so,” he laughed. “But I always thought that if we have a son… and he looks like me and Dad… we could name him Champ. Do you like it?”</p><p>“Very clever. First Tramp, then Scamp, then Champ, then Stamp, then — ”</p><p>“Ah, that can come later. Right now, we’ve got the world to explore.” </p><p>Their train steamed off, taking them past the fields and over the mountains, far, far away under the evening sun vanishing behind the tree tops. With their tails wagging together and their eyes on the distant horizon, they imagined endless adventures.</p>
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